The Horrible Life of Felicity Taylor
by cumberbatchbooty
Summary: You all know this one: A girl who was bullied to the point she wanted to run away, and eventually she did with Mr. Crepsley. This is Felicity Taylor's story. I can assure you that there will be plenty of plot twistiness! AU until part 2. Creps/OC Ch 18!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **_Yes, I know I seemed to have fallen off the face of Fanfiction (maybe even the face of the Earth) for a while but, now I'm posting something new (which I probably shouldn't do, since I have so many other things I have yet to update). The reason I haven't been able to update or post anything is because my internet is horrible and didn't work for like... forever. :P Anyway, it's working now, and I am able to post stuff. Plus, I had state testing (although that was like a week ago) and it stopped me from writing in the middle of class. This is a lame excuse. (I managed to include magical PopTarts into one of the responses :3 ) The main reason is my internet. I'm sure you don't want to read this rant, so I'll get to the point:_  
>This story doesn't follow the plot of Cirque Du Freak at all (that I know of yet), although Vampire Mountain and the trials of Initiation will be included (A lot of people call them the Trials of Death, but they are wrong. It's the Trials of Initiation, people!). If you have any suggestions, feel free to tell me, (although I have a lot of chapters already written out. Up to ten actually, but there will be a lot more) and if the main character (Felicity) is very Mary-Sue, please, for the love of Vancha, just tell me in a simple review or PM. (I worked too hard on this for it to receive flames.) The same applies for if any of the characters are OOC. (I really hope Felicity isn't Mary-Sue. Her personality describes my personality a bit, so that would mean I'm Mary-Sue... But this doesn't completely describe me. I do not look the same as Felicity, and not all of the things that happen to her have happened to me, but a few of them have. Most of them on the bullying part.) Thank you, come again. :) *bows*<em>

_**WARNING:** This FanFic may seem slightly sad and depressing. I hope that is okay. It gets happier as it progresses.  
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_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Cirque Du Freak. Neither do you. Unless you are Darren Shan, but I'm pretty sure you aren't. But if you are Darren Shan... Why did Crepsley have to die! (Oh, yeah, this disclaimer has spoilers in it. :3)_

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

Felicity's POV

"None of your insults or jeers will get to me, you know. I have already grown accustom to them," I snarled as a group of girls decided to ridicule me about my weight. I wasn't fat. Two years ago, when I was twelve, I was. I had come a long way since then, and I wasn't as heavy. But I wasn't bone-thin either. I was right in the middle (maybe a little over, who cares?), but almost every other girl in the school was as thin as a twig, and being different never got you anywhere in that dreaded place.

My high school was the worst school in the district. Maybe the country. Maybe even the world. If only it were burned down to ash, the world would be a much happier place. Many kids in that school were smokers or drug-addicts, most of them only in the ranges of fourteen to eighteen years young, maybe older depending on who stayed back, which many did. A few of the older girls already had a baby on their hip, and hadn't even graduated from school yet.

School transfers weren't uncommon, I had lost a few friendships that way, but it never mattered to me. They were probably a lot happier that way, away from that school. Anywhere could have been better. I just wished I could have been like them, moved away when I had the chance.

See, I couldn't move away from my town. If I had, everything would fall apart. I lived just in that little place that was deserted, and none of the other schools were close enough to where I lived. And, we couldn't afford to move away. We could barely afford to live there!

Despite all that, I was sometimes surprisingly happy. Although it wasn't that surprising if you thought about it. I always tried to take everything lightly. If someone insulted me, as they often did, I ignored it, because I knew the things they were saying weren't true. I made the best of everything, as it's something you have to learn to do when you're in that kind of situation.

I was what some people would have called a "goodie-goodie". I was quiet, never speaking to anyone unless spoken to, if I could. I rarely got in trouble, and tried to avoid having to bash heads into lockers. Sometimes, it was unavoidable, but I tried, and that's what counts.

Ninety-eight percent of all people in that school had a rightful place. There were the jocks, the goth/emo people, the smart, sort of nerdy people, the weirdos that were popular anyway, and then snobs, who were the largest inhabitant in the school. Or shall I say infestation?

Some would say I was a natural born pessimist, but I thought I was more of a optimistic realist (if that was even possible). I hoped for the best but didn't think that a magical leprechaun would come to save us all. But if only one could...

"Oh, the fatty has a big vocabulary. You scare us with your big words," one of my verbal attackers said to me sarcastically.

"No, it's just that your vocabulary is so limited, that half the time, you can't comprehend anything." So, maybe, my word choice was a slight bit different than others'. But God gave me an intelligent mind, and I intended on using it to my advantage! I didn't think my vocabulary was all that big. That just goes to show how stupid people were at that school.

The girl apparently couldn't come up with anything after that and walked away, clicking her tongue in disgust. Oh how I wished to slam her head into the cold, already blood-stained, tile floor. That would lighten my mood.

This is what I had to go through. Especially in the girls' locker rooms, when I was changing into my gym clothes. Despite what everyone was saying about my weight and the moderate amount of flabbiness on my body, which was barely even noticeable anyway, I took my time changing. Because I didn't care. Because I knew that outer beauty was nothing. Inner beauty was where it counted. And, with all these people purposely ticking me off, I wasn't even beautiful on the inside. I was an ugly witch, prepared to rip their heads off!

I hated gym. Because I was a lazy person, I'll admit, or, at least I was lazy whenever I could be. I hated sports, although I fared pretty well in most of them. Especially dodge-ball. It was always easy for me. The only thing that made it worth while was being able to see my one and only true friend, the only one I thought I could trust, June.

June had been my friend since the first grade, and we formed an immediate friendship since the day we first met. We were inseparable. We were just like sisters, but with a stronger bond than I had with my real sisters, which I had three of. It was a if we were one person sometimes. If you thought of yourself best friends with someone, we thought of ourselves joined at the hip.

"Were they bothering you again, Felicity?" June asked me as we were walking laps around the field for gym.

"What do you think?" I retorted, sounding more curt than I had intended. I saw June's face sadden and immediately I frowned. "Sorry," I apologized. "I'm just getting fed up, is all."

"You don't mean to tell me they're actually getting to you, are you?" June asked, shocked, almost.

"No," I lied. The truth was, inside, I was ready to crawl into a hole and stay there, never to come out to face the world again. You could only handle so much before you'd snap, and I was almost at that point.

"June, I'm getting these laps over and done with. I'm running now." I started out down the field in a slow jog, then a faster gallop, then was speeding past everyone, but it wasn't before long that I got tired and lost my breath. I could run very fast, but not for very long. I just needed to learn how to control my breathing better.

I was hunched over, gasping for air. "Stupid asthma," I muttered, even though I didn't have asthma. I knew that, but I didn't want myself to think that it was my weight that was stopping me from running long distances.

A breeze came, blowing my long, soft, raven black hair around. The loose, bright orange and red leaves fell from the trees, and I reached out and tried to grab one. At this I failed the first time, but the second time, the leaf seemed to just land right in my hand.

It was a beautiful leaf, red, brown and orange, a little amount of green still there. I recalled when I was little, about four, I used to think that the trees would die in the fall, and that's why all of the leaves fell from the trees. I used to cry about that, then, in the spring when the leaves would come back, I would be overjoyed, I thought it was a miracle that the trees were so lively and green again. Then, ten years later when I was standing in a field at gym time, trying to catch my breath while examining a magnificent autumn leaf, I didn't believe in miracles.

I let the semi-dead leaf fall to the ground, and it landed in the soft, green grass. I decided not to run anymore, so I just walked. Everything around me looked blurry. I knew why. There was smudge on my glasses. I took them off my face and studied the lenses. They were completely clean. That's when I realized it was actually tears that were blurring my vision. I was crying at the memory of my younger years, when everything was a lot easier to deal with, and so much more simple.

I quickly blinked the tears away as a group of girls walked past and laughed and joked about me. As usual, I ignored them, but that same urge to trip them or cause bodily harm to them in any way came, and I resisted that urge. Hooray. I should have gotten a sparkly sticker.

They continued to throw insults at me and I started to sprint again, running away from everything. I couldn't take it anymore. I had enough insults for one day, more than necessary. I ran toward the woods surrounding the field, jumped over the fence and climbed a tree and stayed there. I didn't come down until I heard the sharp shriek of the gym coach's whistle as it blew, signaling the end of class.

I jumped out of the tree, bolted toward the rather short fence, hopped over it and ran into the school for the girls' locker room, not bothering to talk to anyone, not even June. If anyone noticed my absence while they were playing soccer, they didn't say anything to me about it.

In science, I got crumpled up paper balls thrown at me, and when Ellie was passing out the notebooks, she purposely chucked mine at my head. I expertly dodged it, as I was used to this happening. Sometimes, I wished she would be more spontaneous when it came around to what she threw at me and where she threw it.

Nobody talked to me the whole class, and for that I was thankful, because I knew it would only be insults if they did. We didn't have to pair up for a lab, or even discuss anything with each other. All we had to do was sit quietly and write notes on Darwin's theory of evolution, which I thought was a load of bull. I didn't know why people always bothered with the way things came to be. Couldn't they just accept that it happened, and that's that?

As I walked down the hall, more insults came my way, as well as random objects at my head. A boy, James, who was also picked on my a lot of people, looked at me knowingly. I was glad someone else knew what my pain was like, and I wasn't alone. There is no feeling worse than the feeling that you are alone.

At this I looked down and clutched my books tighter to my chest. When I couldn't see him any longer, I moved a lock of black hair out of my eyes. I always thought that people like us – James and I – could get along, become friends, but he didn't want to associate with me, in fear that it would make people pick on him more, if that was even possible. And it was. People could be mean.

I moved along swiftly down the halls, not realizing that I was nearly sprinting. "Got somewhere important to go?" I was stopped by a familiar voice. I was about to move around the person, or give a nasty comment back, but then I realized that it was June, and I calmed down. June was surrounded by her friends. Her very many, very popular, very skinny friends. June was one of the most popular girls in the school, and one of the skinniest, too. No one would think someone like her would hang around with someone like me, but June didn't care. She never judged a book by its cover, no matter how pathetic it looked.

Her haughty friends scoffed and walked away when they saw that June was talking to me. "No," I forced a weak chuckle. "Just want to get away from... it all."

June nodded. "Okay." June had never shown that she felt a giant amount of sympathy for me, even though I knew she was aching in her heart to drop-kick all those idiots that were picking on me, and calling me names, and throwing stuff at me. She knew that I would be offended, that it would make me think she believed I couldn't fight my own battles. I wouldn't let anyone help me, because I knew I could do it on my own. But, deep inside, I knew that was a lie.

We parted ways, and I was off to my second to last class, and my one and only favorite one, the class where I thought I could truly shine. Chorus. I thought– no, I _knew_ I had a good singing voice, and I played the piano rather well. I hadn't taken lessons on singing or on piano. I taught myself, and practiced whenever I could.

The piano at the front of the massive room was desolate, so I sauntered over to it and sat myself down at the bench-seat. I began to play a tune that I taught myself to play, also composed myself. I usually wrote my own songs to play and sing.

I played a song that I wrote a few years before, when the teasing and jeering first began. I had never named it, just played it. It didn't have any words to it and it was a soft little melody. It was written a long time ago, but I think it was my best work.

"You aren't worthy of playing a song written by someone so much better than yourself," that same girl as in the locker room, Meredith said to me. I laughed. Inside my head at least.

"It's my song. I came up with it three years ago."

"Well, it's horrible anyway, so you should stop playing it before all of our ears start bleeding."

People are stupid. One, what Meredith said was the worst comeback in history, and two, I had stopped playing the song thirty seconds before. I got up and sat in a different seat on the risers, in the second of the four rows, the seventh seat to the right. Right in the middle. Just how I liked it.

"Good afternoon, class," came a man's voice. "Mrs. Mitchell is out on maternity leave for the next six months, and I will be your substitute for that time." He had a slight British accent, his voice was deep, and he talked a bit fast. His voice was slightly monotonous, but calming and smooth. The man was very tall, about six foot eight, and very thin, with a small waist and broad shoulders. He was wearing a red dress shirt tucked into black dress pants, and was wearing a black tie.

He was looking down at a document in front of him, so no one could see his face. The document was a music sheet. He put it on the piano and took a seat at the bench behind the piano and played a few melodious notes, going up and down the scale. He looked up and a smiled a wide, toothy grin. I gasped at what I saw.

He had a long, jagged scar running down the left side of his clean-shaved face, going from the corner of his mouth to his temple. His hair was bright orange, his eyes were a stunning jade color and his skin a unhealthy shade of white. I could recognize him anywhere. If I wasn't mistaken, that man was Larten Crepsley. Larten Crepsley, the _vampire_.

_**A/N: ***Insert scary clap of thunder here* Now, who enjoyed that? Wasn't is so totally epic and unpredictable! That was sarcasm, my dear children. Now, do you see that button down there? It says review. You know what it means? Review. You know it wants to be pressed. Make the little button happy and just press the dang thing, write a few words, and click the other button. I promise, the world will not explode._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **This is chapter two! Written for you! Review it or die! While I eat pie! PopTarts are awesome! I want a pet opossum! I'm running out of rhymes! Optimus Prime! Anyway, this was written for you to enjoy and such things! I know you have been eagerly anticipating this chapter, people! Well, actually, I doubt that, but let's just say that you were. Here it is. Just read it. And if you like it, drop a review. If you don't like it, drop a review anyway. No harm can come to you or I, unless of course, you flame, and in that case my heart will break and you will receive a very nasty reply and become sad. But don't fret. I love EVERYONE! _

_I will use this A/N wisely and say thank you to all of those who reviewed chapter one. I was going to wait 'til the weekend to update, but the people who reviewed seemed to want more, so, here is more! To those of you who reviewed, I flippin' love you guys. You made me smile like an idiot all night because of the positive comments you gave me. This chapter is for you. (PS: I love smiling like an idiot, hint hint. :) ^-^_

**Chapter Two:**

Felicity's POV

I could _not_ believe what I was seeing, if it really was what I was seeing. There are lookalikes sometimes, doppelgangers if you will, but I was pretty sure that this was the real guy. But, it couldn't have been. Mr. Crepsley is a fictitious character of Darren Shan's, in my favorite book series. He. Couldn't. Be. Real. But... Maybe he could be...

"The teacher" noticed my gasp, as did everyone else, and all of the students tried to stifle giggles, some not even bothering to, laughing audibly at me. The teacher only glanced at me with an odd expression then began to introduce himself.

"I am Vur Horston. But you will call me _Mr._ Horston. Any questions?" he asked. I had a question. Was this really happening! Meredith raised her hand, but didn't bother waiting to be called on.

"Where did your scar come from?" she asked our substitute teacher who just so happened to be my favorite person in the whole world. I sighed when she asked this. I saw Larten's– excuse me, _Mr. Horston's_ face turned a deep crimson color.

He coughed uncomfortably. "I would prefer not to answer that question." I couldn't blame him. It's an embarrassing story!

"Why?" Meredith pressed. "Are you afraid we would laugh at you?" Why was Meredith always trying to make people uncomfortable, and doing so well at it?

"No," I spoke up, not meaning to. I couldn't back down then. "He's only afraid you'd have nightmares after hearing the story."

I sunk in my seat. Mr. Horston glanced at me thoughtfully and grinned slightly.

"Oh, what do you know? You have known him just as long as we have," Meredith scoffed. I couldn't help but think of how much I actually know about him. No one understands.

"Anyway," Mr. Horston cleared his throat, just like I imagined he did in the books. I smiled a cheesy fan-girl smile at this. "I would like to get to know you all better. Here is a fun idea. When I walk by you, say your name in your best singing voice, GO!" he clapped, startling me. He walked down the first row. He came around to the second finally, after about a minute. Three seats away from me, Meredith sang her name. "Meredith West," she sang softly and melodiously.

Two people later, he came to me. I gulped. "Felicity Taylor," I sang, and sounded like a jazz singer.

"Very good!" he commented, and I felt very proud of myself and smiled and looked down awkwardly. I wasn't used to compliments, and I could tell by his equally as awkward gaze that he wasn't used to giving them. Vur Horston went through the rest of the group, and everyone sounded great. Finally, it was his turn to sing his own name. He purposely sang it like an opera singer, doing that theatrical hand gesture thingy, to make us laugh. Despite that, it was quite good. I had no idea he was such an amazing singer! I always thought of him, as far as singing goes, the equivalent to a tone-deaf walrus. Life is full of surprises, isn't it?

"Mr. Horston" sat behind his piano and played a few more notes, only to stand again and clap his hands to catch our attention. He seemed to be new at teaching. "Alright," he started speaking to us with his smooth voice, "I am not sure what Mrs. Mitchell used to do for warmups, but I have some warmups of my own that I would like to share with you. Hopefully you will find them..." he paused thoughtfully, "affective and entertaining."

He sat, and motioned us to rise. "Here is a simple one. I have the feeling you will find this amusing." He grinned. Then he began to sing: "_I like bumblebee, bumblebee tuna! Yum, yum, bumblebee, bumblebee tuna! I like bumblebee bumblebee tuna! I like tuna made from bumblebees!" _Many of us laughed at the peculiar lyrics, including myself. It had been a while since I got to do that. I could see Mr. Horston grinning to himself.

"Now you try it!"

We tried to sing it, failing a bit, but not too miserably. He sang it over for us, breaking it into parts. We had to try three times before we sang the song with the correct pitch, tune and lyrics.

"Next," he said, "sit on the edge or your seats, sit up straight, and take in a breath, and pretend like you are about to yawn. But do NOT actually yawn." We did as we were told. It was hard not to yawn, though.

We sang the notes up and down the scale. Having Crepsley– Horston, rather, as a teacher was a lot more fun than having Mrs. Mitchell. She was a grumpy lady. Even thought Horston was extremely serious, and didn't crack jokes or even laugh with us that often, just his presence made me fill and overflow with happiness and goofiness, emotions I rarely felt at that time in my life. I just wanted to jump up and down with glee, or maybe glomp the poor vampire. But I couldn't do that. People would think I was crazy. (Even_ I_ thought I was crazy, believing Crepsley was my chorus teacher!)

We started to sing the song we had been working on. It was a difficult bit, not because all of the different parts to it or that the notes were either really really high, or really really low, but the fact that it was completely in Latin. We had no idea what it was saying, but Mr. "Horston" knew how to speak Latin, so he was able to translate it for us. He had also taught us how to say "Those stupid penguins stole my french fries!" due to popular demand. _"__Qui eripuit me stolidum penguins Latin Fries!"_

After class, I heard a lot of people talking about Horston in whispers, hoping that he wouldn't hear. "I like this new music teacher," Meredith said quietly to her friend, and I managed to overhear, because of my great hearing abilities. For a human, my hearing was extraordinary.

"Doesn't that scar creep you out though?" her friend replied. I looked over at Horston to see he was concentrating on the document he had before. He hadn't fooled me. He couldn't read. I knew that he was eavesdropping on Meredith's conversation, just like I had been.

"No," Meredith said, and a giant grin spread across her face. "I think it makes him look kind of hot." The girls giggled.

I looked over to Horston – you know what, I'm just going to call him Crepsley now. This whole "Horston" thing is starting to get on my nerves! – I looked over at _Crepsley _againand noticed that he was chuckling softly and looking over at Meredith.

"I will see all of you tomorrow, I presume!" Crepsley shouted then seemed to just disappear. Oh, you sneaky vampire, you!

The remainder of the day seemed to have dragged on for a week, even though it was only about an hour. Occasionally I would see Mr. Crepsley in the halls, and when I saw him I would greet him, almost saying "Crepsley" every time. And Meredith seemed to be falling madly in love with him, and I couldn't blame her. He was probably the most attractive person I had ever seen, even if he was cold-blooded, blood sucking creature of the night.

Finally, after a long, dragged out day in school, I ran to my house with June in tow, only occasionally stopping for breath during the four mile route to the middle of nowhere that was where I lived. Dad was at work, but one of my sisters was home. I was the second oldest out of all of them.

My mom was home too, but she never seemed to notice my presence. Or absence for that matter. June and I passed right by her in the kitchen and she didn't notice us there until I said, "Hi, Mom." She only grunted in response.

June and I continued through my very small, one story, gross green colored house toward the very end of the hallway to my room that I shared with my oldest sister, who was sixteen. I was was due to turn fifteen in the next three months, so really our ages weren't that far apart. She –my roommate and sister, Bridgette– was in our room, but that didn't bother me. Bridgette and I got along almost perfectly, sibling rivalry here and there, but otherwise, we were buddies. June didn't have a problem with Bridgette either. We all got along fine, and joked around all night.

It was Friday, so June was sleeping over. Us three girls stayed up all night telling embarrassing stories about ourselves and acting like goofballs, mostly saying things that didn't make any sense or doing ridiculous stunts.

"We have a new music teacher until Mrs. Mitchell gets that baby out of her," I said.

"Mrs. Mitchell," Bridgette said our former music teacher's name in disgust. "Doesn't she already have like forty kids?" We laughed.

"Eight," June corrected.

"Who's your sub?" my sister asked. I didn't want to tell her, in fear that she would call me crazy and start ridiculing me and calling me names, just like my classmates had for so many years. But sisters shouldn't keep secrets from each other.

"Mr. Crepsley."

The look on my sister and friend's faces were... indescribable. They looked like they had just seen Micheal Jackson jump up out of his grave and start hula-dancing. Then they did what I hoped they would never do. They actually laughed at me.

"Good one," my sister gasped for breath in between laughs, almost falling backward on the hard, wooden floor. "Now tell us who it _really_ is."

"I'm serious. It's Mr. Crepsley. He's my music teacher. If you don't believe me, see for yourself, during school. I swear, it's him."

"Did he say his name is Mr. Crepsley? Or was he using an alias?" June asked me. She said the last part sarcastically.

"Well, he was using an alias, but it was Vur Horston," I replied, "so it _has _to be him."

"You've gone crazy," Bridgette muttered. "But, I guess there's no point not believing what you tell us. Her music teacher is Mr. Crepsley." I could tell they really didn't believe me. Why would they? I could barely believe it, and I;m living it!

The whole night we talked and talked. We didn't get to sleep until four-thirty in the morning. We never talked about the problems I had at school. If June or Bridgette were having problems in school too, we didn't talk about them, and they didn't make them known. It almost made me feel... alone.

After the weekend, the next few days at school were some of my worst ones. I had three breakdowns in the course of two days, running into the girls' bathroom and bawling my eyes out. I tried not to make my presence known while I was hiding in one of the stalls, but I eventually didn't care anymore and wept until I had no more tears left. I had to go to chorus by that time.

Mr. Crepsley was standing by the door, ushering us in. I knew he was a considerate guy, and when he saw me with flushed cheeks and my mascara running down my face, he stopped to talk to me.

"Have you been crying?" he asked me and crouched low, so he was at eye level with me. Why is it, that when I want someone to care they won't, and when I don't want them to bother with me, they won't leave the the fudge alone?

I nodded. "Yes," I squeaked, and almost started crying again.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked me politely. My heart sank. He was being so sweet! Not to mention that his jade eyes were threatening to make my legs collapse. I could feel my face turning bright red.

"No, Mr. Horston. You have to get to teaching us how to sing and stuff." I smiled.

He smiled back and stood to his full height. He patted my head. "Take a seat."

I hugged my binder and notebooks close to my chest and sat in my usual spot. Middle row, seventh seat from the right. Unfortunately, next to Meredith that time.

Mr. Crepsley did the same routine as any other day, doing a few warmups, then we practiced our song. From that point on, everything went smoothly. Until the very end of the day.

I was walking down the stairs slowly, taking my time. It wasn't important that I got home immediately. No one would miss me. Little did I know that my sneakers were untied. At the worst possible moment, when I was on the twenty-seventh to last step of the fifty or so step granite staircase out front, I tripped over my shoelace, and fell forward. Down the stairs!

I thought I was going to break an arm, or a leg, or my face, but at the same time I was walking down the stairs, Crepsley was too. He was near the very bottom of the stair case as I fell.

Hearing my startled shriek, Crepsley turned around. His eyes widened and he flitted –or maybe he just ran really fast. I don't know. This happened within a millisecond– over to me and caught me before I fell.

"Thank you, Mr. Crepsley," I thanked the tall, thin savior of my face. When I saw Mr. Crepsley's wide eyes and slacked jaw, I realized I did something bad. I called him Mr. Crepsley! My first thought was, "Oh my God! He's going to hypnotize me then breathe knock-out gas on me!"

"Sorry," I mumbled and covered my mouth and nose so he couldn't knock me out, and ran the rest of the way down the stairs as fast as I could. I bolted straight home, not stopping, in fear that Crepsley was following me.

**A/N: **_Aww...Poor Felicity... Tsk Tsk... The A/N at the end of chapter 1, where it said something along the lines of, "That was sarcasm, my dear children," I just now realize how ironic that is because most of you reading this are probably a lot older than me. Heh heh, I'm only twelve! :) I will update on Saturday! Or sooner... Ya never know... *laughs evilly then chokes.* Ahem._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: And, again, I gave into temptation and peer pressure and updated yet again before Saturday. But it's okay. You guys seem to be enjoying this fic, soooo... :) And again, love the reviews, and I'll hold up my end of the bargain if you hold up your end of the bargain, via review, and I'll write well._

_I feel like an idiot! I went through the last chapter tonight, and I found a bunch of typos! How did I miss them! They were so obvious! I promise not to let that happen to much again. I'm so out of it today... Anywaaaaaayyyy... Enjoy. =3_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>

Felicity's POV

I literally ran into the door and slammed it closed. I didn't stay in the kitchen long enough to announce my arrival, but that didn't matter to me much. I ran into my room, dropping my backpack in the hallway, and dropping my coat as well.

That was horrible! I thought to myself. I threw myself down on the mattress laying in the corner of the room, which was mine. I felt like such an idiot! What was he going to say the next day at school?

That was all I could think about all night long. Was he going to interrogate me, make my life worse than it already was? Was he going to force me to become his assistant? This just made everything worse because, for starters, I didn't even have the slightest idea why Mr. Crepsley was even teaching at a school, or if it in fact _was _ Mr. Crepsley. The look on his face when I said his name was definitely suspicious, but who was I to know what it really meant?

Why did all of this have to happen to me!

Looking around, I noticed my room was a mess. No, more like a pig-stye. My room wasn't going to clean itself, so I cleaned it, starting with the dirty clothes in a heap on the floor in the corner of my untidy room. I threw them into the hamper next to the closet. It was a good way to get my mind off of Crepsley for a while.

Soon, my room was spotless. Too spotless. I decided to make things look at least like someone actually lived in the room, put a glass of water on a coaster on the piano, lip-gloss on my nightstand, opened up my notebook and left it lying on my desk with a pen next to it. I even helped Bridgette out with her side of the room. (She wasn't home anyway, so I just did it for her). Messed up my bed a bit, as well as Bridgette's, throwing stuffed animals everywhere on them. Yes, I was fourteen and I still had teddy bears. But honestly, how long did it take until you parted ways with your favorite stuffy?

My favorite was a small stuffed bear with a head far too big for it's body, but that was because my sisters had made it for me while I was in the hospital last year when got almost deathly ill. They weren't the best at sewing, and I had to patch up holes, and resew buttons, but the fact that they took their time to do something for me was what mattered most. I could never part ways with that pathetic-looking little bear!

When I was satisfied with the way my room looked, I sat down at my piano. I didn't want to play one of my own songs, none of them seemed to fit my mood. But, I didn't know many other ones. So, I played the song I had played in school in chorus that one day. Maybe I could add lyrics to it.

I must admit, I played it pretty well. It wasn't until I played it over sixteen times that day before I thought I had mastered it, even thought I had been playing it on and off for two years. At around seven-thirty, my two other sisters, who were twins, Katie and Kris, seven years old came into my room to compliment me on my piano skills, and sat on my bed, listening to me play. I loved my little sisters.

"Play 'Love You Like A Love Song'!" Katie begged me with her squeaky little voice, bouncing on my bed in anticipation. Kris agreed with her.

"Please? It's such an awesome song!" both girls said simultaneously. I laughed to myself.

"After you brush your teeth, brush your hair and get into your PJ's, I'll play it to you," I smiled. The girls got up and ran out into the hallway. I changed into a pair of very short zebra stripe shorts and a black ACDC tee-shirt that my brother gave to me before he moved away at eighteen. I hadn't seen Gryphon in two years, and I wore the shirt he gave me almost every night, even if it was too big for me.

Less than three minutes later, the girls ran back into my room, Katie's short black hair in two pigtails, one on either side of her head, bangs falling in her face, and Kris's longer black hair in one pony-tail at the back of her head. They were both wearing pale pink tee-shirts and clutching their teddy bears to their chests.

They sat back down on my bed. "Play it!" Katie smiled, showing the spots where her baby teeth had fallen out. At that moment, Bridgette came through the door of our room.

"Play what?" Bridgette asked. I could see she was already wearing her pajamas. She sat down in the chair next to the piano and crossed her arms over the piano and perched her head in her hands.

"Love You Like A Love Song," I replied, and started to play the beginning. Bridgette smiled. She liked this song. Almost every night, we sang a song with each other, but it was a rare treat that we had the piano accompanying it, because the piano kept breaking, and I always had to try to fix it. I never took the time we had together for granted, because some day, we wouldn't be able to have that time, just to sit with each other and sing a song.

I sang the first verse by myself, doing an exceptional job at it if I do say so myself.

"_It's been said and done,_

_Every beautiful thought's been already sung,_

_And I guess right now here's another one,_

_So your melody will play on and on, _

_with the best of 'em,_

_You are beautiful, like a dream come alive, incredible,_

_A centerfold miracle, lyrical,_

_You've saved my life again,_

_And I want you to know baby."_

The twins took over for the chorus.

"_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!"_

Bridgette sang verse two wonderfully.

"_Constantly,_

_Boy, you play through my mind like a symphony,_

_There's no way to describe what you do to me,_

_You just do to me, what you do,_

_And it feels like I've been rescued,_

_I've been set free_

_I am hypnotized by your destiny,_

_You are magical, lyrical, beautiful,_

_You are... And I want you to know baby."_

The twins sang the chorus again. I must admit, for being seven, they were quite good.

"_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!"_

We all joined in together to sing the bridge and the chorus.

"_No one compares,_

_You stand alone, to every record I own,_

_Music to my heart that's what you are,_

_A song that goes on and on,_

"_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_I, I love you like a love song, baby,_

_And I keep hitting re-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!"_

After that song was over, I started to play just the music to it, with no lyrics. Soon, the twins fell asleep on my bed. When I finished the song, I pulled the purple blanket over the two slumbering sisters and let them sleep on my bed. I stole one of the pillows from Bridgette's bed and used that to sleep with. I had a spare blanket in the closet and I used that to wrap myself in to stay warm. I fell asleep minutes later, my mind completely steering clear of what would lie ahead for me the next day at school.

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><p><em>AN: Yes, it's short, I know. But it's the best I could do. I was very tired when I wrote it. Well, now I'm off to write some more and ponder the reason why I feel so stupid today. Maybe I'll just sleep the stupidity off. Eh, I want to write. I'd rather feel stupid and write while I can than not feel stupid and not have any time to write. Hope I didn't make to many typos! =3_

_The only reason I included this song is because a little girl asked me and my friend to sing this for her, and we did, so then I had the song stuck in my head for like a week and felt like I should include it here. I am updating Saturday. No earlier, no later. I hope you can wait. And hopefully by then I can finish a few more chapters for you guys (I'm currently writing chapter 11) :3 I have no idea how many chapters are gonna be in thins thing, but you can trust that it will be more than twenty, maybe more than thirty._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_Here we go. I bet you guys are expecting something totally epic to happen soon, and I promise something will happen soon, but for now, just enjoy this horrible chapter that's only good for leading up to what happens next. Sorry that it's as short as it is. But hey, I didn't lie this time! It's ACTUALLY saturday now! I think. *checks date* Yep, it's Saturday. Enjoy._

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><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>  
>Felicity's POV<p>

I sighed heavily. "Please, Mom, can you drive us to school? It's raining, it's a four mile walk and we're already going to be late. Please."

"No," my mom said firmly, a cigarette between her index and middle finger on her right hand. "You're walking. You never seemed to have a problem with it before. Why are you so lazy all of a sudden?"

"I've always had a problem with it, and what do you mean by _all of a sudden_? I have been lazy since the day I was born, you and I both know that," I argued. My mom didn't seem too convinced. "What about Katie and Kris? Are you going to make them walk to school alone in the rain? They'll get sick!" She wasn't moved by this at all. Bridgette, Katie and Kris were sitting at the table, and they looked like they wanted to help, but they knew it was futile.

"Fine," I said, seriously bothered. "I'll walk them to school." With that I put on my hoodie and grabbed my backpack and stormed out the door into the pouring rain, Katie, Bridgette and Kris not far behind me. Rain drops fell heavily onto my head and shoulders and it felt like I was being pelted with rocks. The sound of the water beating against the ground was almost unbearably loud for my sensitive ears. Having an umbrella would have been no use, the rain would probably rip holes through the fabric.

There we were, two seven-year-old girls, a sixteen and a fourteen year old girl, walking in the rain, freezing cold and drenched from head to toe. We made pretty good time, well, Kris and Katie did. They ended up getting to school at eight thirty on the dot.

"Bye, Katie, bye Kris," I waved to the girls. Bridgette did the same. We were definitely going to be late for school. Everything in my bag was soaked. My project I had spent a good portion of my weekend doing, ruined. My gym clothes, very very soggy. The clothes I was wearing didn't fare so well either. My hair was soaked, as was my black hoodie and the dark purple tee-shirt underneath it. All of my stuff was dripping, and I was freezing. It didn't help that I got really cold really easily anyway.

We had a seven mile walk to get to school. My sisters' school was three miles to the west of my house, and my school was four miles to the east. Seven miles. Negative sixty-five minutes left to get to school. Gee, I wonder we could make it.

Unwillingly, we started off in a easterly direction, walking at a fast pace, wanting to get to a safe, warm, dry location as soon as possible, even if it was my school. Our teeth were chattering and we were shaking from the cold, so we resorted to going straight home. I knew Mom wouldn't be there, - she would be at work - so we could sneak in without being detected.

When I got in, I changed into some comfortable sweat-pants and another one of my brother's tee-shirts. The weird thing was, my brother didn't really take much with him when he moved away. Only the clothes on his back and a back pack with a sweatshirt, his iPod, his journal, some money, the necklace I made him and a picture of our family. He didn't even take his cell phone.

We didn't have a television at the house, but we had a plethora of books on the many shelves we had. I may as well have lived in a library, because that's what many people mistook my room for, the library, until they saw the beds.

I went over to one of the shelves and pulled off a book. Inkheart. I've read that one at least four times. Not looking, I pulled another book off the shelf. Oceans of Blood. That's when I remembered Mr. Crepsley.

I would have to face him sometime soon, otherwise, this weird feeling would be gnawing away at me forever. What was that feeling? It couldn't have been guilt. I had no reason for guilt. Anxiety, maybe? That was probably it. I would be to school tomorrow, I promised myself. That day, I got a break from all the madness of school, the madness no one seemed to believe me about. It was nice while it lasted.

Someone came in at around the time I would usually be having a mental breakdown at school, one-thirty. I was listening to my mp3 player so I didn't hear them come in. My eyes were closed and I was about to fall asleep, when they came into the living room and poked my forehead. I opened my eyes and took the headphones out of my ears. I was about to scream and hit them with one of the sluggers we kept in the house, until I realized who it was.

"Dad!" I shrieked excitedly, jumped up and wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me back. "You're back! I thought you weren't supposed to be home until this Friday. Why are you here so early?"

Dad broke the hug. "It turns out I didn't need to stay as long as I thought," he he said vaguely with a smile. He sat next to me on the couch. I should explain, my dad had been on a business trip across the country for the past three weeks. I missed him terribly. If my mom had gone on a business trip, though, I wouldn't really care. I hated my mother.

Bridgette came out of our room when she heard the commotion. She hugged our father. Then they joined me on the couch.

"So, what are you doing home so early?" Dad asked us. I knew that he would be mad at my mom if I told him what she did, and my mom would holler the house down at me. But, I would much rather be lectured for something completely stupid, than lie to my dad.

I knew Dad wouldn't appreciate this from my mom. The only reason they didn't divorce was for us kids. So there would be two incomes going into the house, so they could afford food, clothes, and shelter for us. I know I shouldn't have hated my mom as much as I did, because of all the things she did for us, and the only reason she was always cranky is because we made her that way. We took everything she did for granted, and that's something you shouldn't let yourself do.

"Mom sent Katelyn, Kristen, Felicity and I to walk to school in the pouring rain. Felicity and I walked Katelyn and Kristen to school, and by the time we were on our way to _our_ school, it was already really late, and we were drenched," Bridgette answered for me. She was the only one in the house who would call Kris and Katie by Kristen and Katelyn.

Dad nodded. "Sorry girls. Your mom has been having a tough time at work lately and it's affecting her at home." I have been having a tough time in school for years, and I would never make two seven-year-olds walk to school alone in the freezing rain! Of course I never told my parents or sisters about my issues at school, though, because I didn't want them to get involved. I could handle it by myself.

Bridgette sighed. "Well, it's good to have you around again, Dad," she said. "It was lonely without you."

Dad went to pick up the twins about an hour later. They had a great day at school. They weren't as unfortunate as I. They wouldn't have to deal with a vampire when they went to school!

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><p>Next update will probably be on Monday or Tuesday. Depends on how things go.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**_AN:_**_ I have decided to update today because I am going to Salem, Massachusetts a bit later today. I'm going to an epic haunted house, and if it's in Salem, you KNOW it's gonna be scary. (It's the town of the accused witches, people!) So, the sole reason I am updating now is because I may die of scaredom. That is very illogical, yes, but I needed a reason to update now. Sorry if there are a bunch of grammatical errors or spelling errors. I am tired right now. It's way too early for me to be awake. (It's 10:00 am. Pathetic, isn't it?) ENJOY!_

**Chapter Five:**

Felicity's POV

I was actually able to get to school the next day. I didn't want to. I just wanted to stay home and avoid that vampire, Crepsley. I never thought I would see the day I uttered those words. I was a Larten Crepsley fan-girl since day one, and everyday, I imagined that I would meet him, but I never thought it would come. And now that it's here, I'm trying to avoid it! Oh, the irony is agonizing.

Chorus seemed to come rather quickly, and as soon as it came, time seemed to slow down by about a hundred miles per hour. Mr. Crepsley was standing there at the door. I wanted to turn back, run away into the girls' bathroom and hide, but he already saw me.

He motioned for me to come over. When I was right by him, I looked up at him. He was so tall. He crouched lower, so he was at eye level with me. I hated being so short! "On Tuesday, you called me Mr. Crepsley. Now, how did you know that was my real name?" he asked in his mysterious voice.

How was I going to answer? What would I say? Should I tell him there is a whole series of books dedicated to him? Uhhh. Yes, I should. *faceplam* "I just know," I said vaguely. Why couldn't I have just lied and said it was an accident, I was mistaking him for someone else, and make _him_ look like the idiot? Because that was logical, and apparently, I wasn't capable of being logical around him.

"How do you_ just know_'?" he asked again. His facial features were creased with confusion.

I pulled out Oceans of Blood from my bag. I pointed to the name on the cover of it. Larten Crepsley. He looked even more confused than before, if that was even possible (It's not what you may think. He wasn't confused because he couldn't read his own name, people. That's just silly!). "Hold on just a moment," he told me. He went inside the classroom for a moment. "You may socialize for a while," he said to the students inside the room, and the chatter got a lot louder. Heh heh... _Socialize._

"Follow me," he said to me and walked inside the room, over to the other side, where his little office was. He walked in and when we were both inside, he closed the door. "What is this?" he almost yelled at me.

"A... a book," I answered feebly. Crepsley was getting angry, I could tell by his flushed face.

"Where did you get this book? Who wrote it? Did you write this? Why is it about me? How did they know about me?" Crepsley rambled.

"Whoa, whoa, one question at a time!" I started to get overwhelmed.

"Sorry," Mr. Crepsley apologized. "Where did you get this book?" Crepsley asked me again.

"Borders," I answered. "It's a book store." Then, I decided to just finish answering all of his other questions at once, "It was written by Darren Shan. He knew all about you because, well... I don't think I should tell you that. I think the other series takes place in the future for you."

"That is ridiculous!" Mr. Crepsley spat. Then he realized something. "Wait, there are more books about me? Do you have them?"

"Yes," I answered, I had the seventh book of Cirque Du Freak in my locker, "but I don't want to read them to you. It might change the course of the future." Well, I suppose that could be a good thing, but I think everything might fall apart at the seams if he knew. I guess I could drop hints.

"Could you read this one to me?" he asked me, tapping the cover of the book I was holding.

"Sure," I answered and opened the book up to the first page. I read it aloud to him. "_The vampire known as Quicksilver threw a knife high into the smoke-clogged air of the tavern. Those around him watched with beady-eyed, bloodthirsty fascination as he held his head back, opened his mouth wide and waited for the knife to drop. A few people shrieked but Quicksilver didn't flinch, expertly tracking the flight of the dagger. At precisely the right moment he clenched his teeth together and caught the blade two inches past the tip. As the handle quivered, he turned slowly, so that everyone in the room could see. Pulling out the knife, he threw it into the wood of the table – it drove in all the way to the hilt – and took a bow_," I stopped, so he could digest the words. "Sound like you?" I asked him with a smirk.

He nodded slightly, mouth ajar. "How? How did they know my nickname was Quicksilver?"

"Fastest hands in the world. Anyone could have guessed that, especially when they saw you playing the piano," I said. He looked extremely freaked out, but tried to remain calm. And failed.

I continued to read. "_As the crowd went wild with applause, Quicksilver grinned and slumped into a chair close to another vampire and a gaggle of admiring young ladies. 'There,' he beamed. 'I told you I could do it.'_

_ "'One of these nights,' the other bloodsucker said, 'you'll time that wrong and end up with a knife through the back of your throat.'_

_ "'Don't be such an old woman, Wester,' Quicksilver laughed. 'You'll scare these lovely creatures and I would hate to send them to bed with nightmares.'_

_ "'It will take more than your dull tales to scare us,' one of the ladies snorted, but they were undeniably impressed._

_ "'What's your real name?' another lady asked, cuddling up to the man with the odd orange hair, immaculate gray suit and dazzling smile._

_ "'I only reveal that to my very special friends,' Quicksilver murmured. Then, as she blushed, he whispered in her ear, 'Larten Crepsley.' After that he called for more wine and the night passed most pleasantly."_

"So, what are you going to do now? Ask for my autograph or something?" Crepsley asked me. He seemed annoyed.

"No," I replied. "But I do want you to tell me something. What are you doing, teaching at a school? You don't have a college degree, and you hate children."

"Yes, that is true. Vampires are capable of a lot of things, though, including forging certificates. I do hate children, but you are not 'children', as most of you say, you are teenagers, correct?" he smirked. I giggled a fan-girl giggle.

"Hey, Mr. Crepsley," I said, still in the middle of my giggle fit. He was still smirking and raised an eyebrow at me. "Do you even know how many teenage girls are crazy in love with you because of those books? You have a lot of fan-girls."

I looked up at him. He looked proud, but at the same time appalled. "Well, that is... different," he said. He paused thoughtfully, scratched his scar, and cleared his throat before he continued. "After school today, I would like for you to come back here, so you can tell me more about these fan girls and the people that are crazy in love with me. And hopefully, you will be able to tell me why."

"Alright," I agreed. I don't know what I was afraid of. That actually went really well, and he didn't even threaten to kill me! Inside, I knew he wouldn't, but paranoia gets the best of people sometimes.

"Mr. Crepsley," I mumbled then coughed. "remember them?" I said and pointed to the door with my thumb. Mr. Crepsley jumped and opened the door and sat back at the piano. I took my seat and the rest of the class went pleasantly.

I couldn't wait until the end of the day. The last period was the worst one, more insults thrown at me then ever, poked and prodded and called a freak, but I didn't care. I was so excited to see Crepsley again.

The end of the day finally came, and I booked it to the music room. I sat on one of the seats, waiting for him. If he was in there, he would have heard me. Within thirty seconds he came through the door.

"Hello, Felicity. I thought I heard you in here." Larten greeted me with a smile as he walked in the room.

"Where were you?" I asked him.

"I was near the gym," he replied. He heard me all the way from the gym? Wow. Vampire hearing, for the win.

"Come into my office."

"Why can't we just stay out there? There's no one out there," I asked as I walked into the office, but I was ignored. I got an uneasy feeling. I asked him again, "Why did you want to go in the office?"

"There are cameras out in that room."

Okay. Freaked out. Was he planning to do something to me? No, he couldn't be. He's Crepsley. He would never do anything like that. I don't think he would, anyway. I wanted to run away, but he seemed to be hypnotizing me.

"I have seen you be bullied," he proceeded to say, "and I was wondering if there is anything I could do to help you."

"Is that was this is about?" I yelled. "I can handle it by myself! I don't need any help. Especially not from you. You don't know what it's like to be bullied, taunted, and threatened by people every single day of your life." I could feel the mental breakdown approaching... coming closer... closer... closer... Here it is! I started to cry, and I knew Mr. Crepsley wouldn't know what to do. In between sobs I said, "I'm sorry," and tried to run out, but Larten was a step ahead of me, and wouldn't let me leave.

"Felicity," he said, "calm down and take a seat. You will be all right." He led me over to one of the twirly-chairs and I sat down. I took in a shaky breath and tried to calm down, but couldn't, and I seemed to get worse. Mr. Crepsley felt extremely bad for me, I could see it in his face. The truth was, he knew how I felt. I wouldn't let anyone help me, even if I needed it. He's been through that. But who hasn't? Everyone has been through tough times, and just wanted to be left alone.

Mr. Crepsley sat across from me, on the other side of the desk. "I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you to make your life easier. I could take you on as my assistant, if you wish," he suggested.

I considered what he was offering. I almost died. On and off for a long time, I had wished I could become a vampire, travel the world, meet important historical vampires, and prove myself worthy to the clan. But now, I didn't think I could do it.

"No, Mr. Crepsley," I said sadly, still crying hard. "I don't think even that could work. Nothing will make it better." Mr. Crepsley looked disappointed.

"Not anything?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I should be leaving now. My dad and my sisters will get worried about me," I said and got up, waved him goodbye.

"If you think of anything–" he started, but I cut him off.

"I know," I smiled sadly and walked away, tears streaming down my face. He flitted in front of me, yet again.

"Why do you not want to become a vampire, and roam the night with me?" the two-century-old vampire asked me, and I looked down.

"I'm scared to." I left it at that. I walked down the hall, toward the main exit and stepped out into the sunlight. It had been raining a lot, on and off for the passed week, and I guess this was my ray of sunshine.

My visit with Larten had been shorter than I thought it would be, so there were still kids leaving the building. As I walked down the sidewalk, two girls and a boy called me fat, stupid, and many other names that I do not care enough to take the effort to repeat.

"What did I ever do to you? Why won't anyone just accept me for who I am?" I sobbed, finally standing up for myself for once.

"You'll never fit in here, or anywhere," one of them said to me, and I found myself beginning to believe them. I looked behind me, toward the school. I could see Mr. Crepsley there, looking at me sympathetically. I turned back and ran home as fast as I could, not stopping for anything, the only thing I was paying attention to was their laughter echoing through my head.

_**AN: **Epic chappy, or what? Rate EPIC or lame in the comments! I want to know! _

_An update will occur some time in the near future. But not too soon. I updated two days in a row, people! I have horrible writers block, so now I'm running out of chapters to post. (Chapters are written about two weeks in advance, sometimes longer, before I post them.)_

_7oas5orlr554ttr4. ← My kitteh says hi! Meow! She's 12 weeks old, and pretty annoying. But we love her anyway cuz she's epically adorable. :3_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **There seemed to be a bit of confusion about why Felicity was scared, it was because she knew how hard being a vampire could be. She wasn't afraid of Larten, just of being a vampire. Hope that cleared things up. If you are reading this now, I did not die of scaredom. :D I really really wish that were a word. I have to call someone about that._

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><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong>

Larten's POV

"I can take you on as my assistant, if you wish," I suggested without thinking. Then when I thought about it, I did not reconsider, because there was something about her that I liked. She was different than everyone else.

"No, Mr. Crepsley," she refused, still crying hysterically. "Nothing will make it better." My face dropped. I could not believe that she was turning down my offer. I thought that she would jump at it, but I guess not. I did not believe that _nothing_ would make it better, but she seemed to.

"Not anything?" I asked, hoping she would rethink it and accept to become my assistant. She shook her head.

"I have to be leaving now," she said. "My dad and my sisters will get worried about me." I could tell she had loyalty toward those she loved. I could tell she was brave, trying to handle everything by herself. Those are qualities all the best vampires have. That is why I wanted her.

"If you think of anything–" I started to say, but she stopped me.

"I know," she smiled feebly and walked away, still crying. I flitted in front of her again.

"Why do you not want to become a vampire, and roam the night with me?" I asked her, and and looked down at the floor.

"I'm scared to." She left it at that. She walked down the hall, toward the main exit and stepped out into the sunlight. Honesty. That is the most important trait.

Seeing Felicity cry was heart-wrenching. Seeing her walk away from me, crying, there being nothing she would let me do to help, was worse. I followed her to the door, staying out of her field of vision.

She was doing nothing wrong, just walking down the sidewalk, when three people started taunting her. "Look, she's so fat," one of them said, and everyone else laughed. "Not to mention stupid," they continued. Many more insults came her way. Fat, stupid, ugly, a loser, a horrible excuse for a person, even a coward, all of that within a five minute time frame. None of which were true.

"What did I ever do to you? Why won't anyone just accept me for who I am?" Felicity cried. My heart went out to her. I hated to see her like this. But I knew there was nothing she would let me do.

The other kids' next words and Felicity's reaction to them struck me the hardest. "You'll never fit in here, or anywhere," they said. By the look on Felicity's face and the way she ran away, I knew she was starting to believe them.

Sighing heavily, I went back inside the building, where the shade would protect me from the rays of the sun. Dragging my feet, I went through the door of my office. I stayed there until about sundown, so I could roam around outside without being burnt.

I stepped outside, and I could see the sun was just barely setting. It was still a bit bright out, but I did not want to stay too long. Plus, I needed to feed.

I flitted out of the school. The school was built downtown, but something was telling me not to go to one of the newer houses in the middle of town. I flitted until I came to small, green, one story house. The road was nearly deserted, there were no passing cars, and no houses within a five miles radius of the place. It was completely enclose in trees, and I thought to myself, "What is a better place than this?"

I walked around the house, to the very back and peered into the window. I could hear someone playing the piano, and singing a song. I had never heard the song before, but I had heard the voice singing it. I couldn't see the person, and it took me a minute to put a face to it. Then I realized who it was. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Felicity.

Felicity's POV

Why did people have to be so mean? How were they any better than me? But what if what they were saying was true? What if I was a coward, and ugly, a loser, fat, stupid and a horrible excuse for a person? What if they were right?

I ran all the way home, crying my heart out, and audibly too. I didn't care if anyone saw me in this state. I just wanted to get home to my piano, where I could be alone.

When I arrived home, no one was there, much to my liking. I ran inside, dropping my belongings in the front hallway. I ran to my room, where I dropped onto my knees and cried. I could not handle it anymore. I screamed out of rage multiple times and threw things I was worried the neighbors would hear me yelling and think something was going on, so in an attempt to shut myself up, I bit my lip until it bled.

Once a bit more composed, I crawled up to my bed and pulled a blanket off, not bothering to climb into bed, I wrapped the blanket around me and lay on the floor, whimpering softly. I took off my glasses and threw them across the room, onto my sister's side. Before long, I realized I had fallen asleep and jolted awake to the sounds of my parents arguing.

I sat up from the floor groggily and looked around. I blinked in confusion when my vision was blurry. I ignored that when I remembered I threw my glasses, and I listened in to my parent's argument.

Swearword. Swearword. "I hate you!" More swearwords. "Why don't you just leave then?" I heard my mom yell.

"I thought you'd never ask." My dad's voice sounded sad. Very sad, although mixed with anger and I was sure he didn't know what to think of this. Silence.

"GO!" I heard my mom scream, and I then a loud crack, and a gasp. It was my dad. I immediately jumped up and ran out of my room, the blanket wrapping around my feet and I almost fell.

"What's going on!" I yelled, fear in my voice, holding onto the door frame for support. I saw my mom, red faced, and I could tell she had been crying. I looked over at my dad. He looked fine, apart from the angry expression, and I looked behind him. There it was. The Louisville slugger broken in two, and a big dent in the wall. It was obvious my mom tried to throw it at his head and luckily missed, because he would be dead if he hadn't moved out of the way.

"Go back into your room, Felicity! This is none of your business!" my mom yelled at me and pointed to my bedroom door. I ignored her and looked to the left. Katie and Kris's door was open, and on one of the beds were the twins, held close to Bridgette, all of which were crying. Dad glanced over at me, as if to say, "I'm sorry," then at my mom as if to say, "Die in a hole, you hideous witch." Then he spun around and stormed out the front door, leaving our sight for good.

"Wha–" was all I was able to say before my breath hitched and I lunged at my mom, crying hysterically, fists clenched and ready to take her to the floor. I started beating at her shoulder with one fist, and she seemed to be just as taken aback as I was by my actions.

She pushed me back with too much force, and I fell on the floor in a heap, crying harder than I ever thought I was capable of. "Why did you... make him leave!" I gasped, and started hyperventilating. "Why would you..!" I said before I growled and ran back into my room and slammed the door. If it hadn't been a steel door, it would have splintered into a million tiny, little pieces.

"Slam the door again, and I'll make _you _leave too!" my mom screamed at me.

"I don't flipping care, _Debra_," I always called my mom by her first name when I was mad at her, because I knew she hated it. "Maybe I'll just leave on my own. Maybe then you will see. You'll call me back and– Wait, you probably wouldn't care. That's the difference between you and I. I actually give a crap!"

I sat behind my piano and wiped my face with my sleeve. I wasn't hyperventilating anymore, but I was still crying. I started to play. I normally played piano when I was upset. I got a lot of practice.

"_Skies are crying, I am watching_

_Catching teardrops in my hands_

_Only silence, as it's ending_

_Like we never had a chance_

_Do you have to make me feel like_

_There's nothing left of me?"_

Seems to fit the mood.

"_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_Go on and try to tear me down, I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a sky scraper_

_Like a sky scraper."_

Inspirational part: not working!

"_As the smoke clears, I awaken_

_and untangle you from me_

_Would it make you, feel better_

_to watch me while I bleed?_

Starting to fit the mood again...

"_All my windows still are broken_

_But I'm standing on my feet."_

Not so much anymore.

"_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of paper_

_Go on and try to tear me down, I will be rising from the ground_

_Like a sky scraper_

_Like a sky scraper._

"_Go run, run, run_

_I'm gonna stay right here, watch you disappear_

_Yea–ohh_

_Go run, run, run,_

_Yeah, it's a long way down_

_But I'm closer to the clouds up here._

"_You can take everything I have_

_You can break everything I am_

_Like I'm made of glass_

_Like I'm made of_–," I stopped abruptly when I heard the window opening. I spun around to see a very familiar face.

"Mr. Creps–!" I practically screeched, but I was stopped when a long finger was pressed to my lips, silencing me.

"Shhh," he whispered. "You will wake them." He was wearing his usual red shirt, black dress pants, blood red cape.

"Why are you here?" I asked and gulped when I saw he was looking down at me with a frown. He wiped a tear away from my face. Oh, yeah. I forgot about those. I was so used to the tears, I didn't even realized they were still flowing freely down my cheeks.

"I... well, I came out to feed, but then I heard you singing such a beautiful song, and I–" I chuckled humorlessly.

"Beautiful? This is the most depressing song I have sang in a really long time," I said.

"Oh. That is why you are crying, too?" Mr. Crepsley asked me.

I shook my head. "It's not the song," I said feebly, "It's... it's..." I couldn't finish, for I started to have a mental breakdown again. I felt like a baby. I didn't want to cry, especially not in front of Crepsley.

Larten was looking down at me, I could tell he had no idea what to do, so he reached out and put a comforting hand on my shoulder, "Y-you will be okay, do not cry. It is all right, Felicity–" I stopped him with a growl.

"Do _never _touch me again!" I snarled, and he pulled his hand back defensively. "I'm sorry," I gulped. "I'm just a giant balloon full of emotions, and you just happened to be there while I popped." Good metaphor, huh? No.

"It is okay," Mr. Crepsley said. There was a long, awkward pause in which I started thinking about something. Something that could change my life. Forever.

"What are you thinking about?" Mr. Crepsley raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. But my face didn't have that same emotion on it. It had pure seriousness.

"What you suggested earlier," I deadpanned and stood up nice and tall, "I want to reconsider your offer." Mr. Crepsley looked at me with an equally as serious glare. "I want to become your assistant."

"Are you sure?"

I gulped, then nodded. And in a quiet voice, said, "I'm positive." At that very moment, I knew I was never so determined yet afraid about something in my whole life.

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><p><em><strong>AN:** The moment you were waiting for has finally arrived! I am pretty sure that you were expecting this to happen. I have the feeling most of you want Mr. Crepsley and Felicity to be in a romantic relationship, as is my plan, but that won't happen until way later in the story. There is nothing more Mary-Sue than a character that meets Crepsley and they randomly start nomming face._


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** I just updated twice in a row. Only because I knew you guys wanted more, and I haven't updated in a while. I don't want any death threats! I will update sometime in the near future, and I know you will enjoy it! Or at least I think you will! Anyway, here is an epic chapter from yours truley. Review if you want to, it really doesn't matter to me either way :) (But reviews are awesome and epic, sooo... Y'know what I'm getting at.)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>

Felicity's POV

We were standing there, hanging in an awkward silence for forty-seven and a half seconds. I counted. It was an eerie quiet, the kind of quiet that would best be fixed with a shrill scream, or maybe a particular orange-haired vampire. "I never thought something could be this awkward," he muttered.

"Me either," I agreed and bit my bottom lip. "How do these things work anyway?" I asked. "What do we do now?"

"I suppose I could blood you now," Mr. Crepsley suggested uncertainly. He was just as new to this as I was.

"No way," I said, "I want to wait until I'm older. I don't want to be fourteen for too much longer, you know?"

"That is as good a reason as any other, but I should test your blood anyway, just to make sure it is good, however I have no doubts that it is," Mr. Crepsley said and took my small hand into his own large one. He pulled my hand closer to him and made a small cut just in the middle of my palm with his thumbnail. He let the blood pool for a moment, and when there was enough, he dabbed his index finger into the warm, deep red liquid and brought the finger to his mouth. He tasted it and with a satisfied grunt, he licked the rest of the blood off my hand. This not only got the blood off my hand, but healed the wound. It was also the most awkward procedure known to man (or vampire).

I pulled my hand back and wiped my palm on my ripped, dark colored skinny jeans and looked at the bedroom door. "I'm going to go say goodbye. Stay here, and I'll be back to pack up in a few minutes," I said sadly, and waited for Crepsley to respond, back facing him.

"Say goodbye?" he gasped, "Are you mad? You cannot say goodbye, they will run after you, and undeniably, they will succeed to stop you."

"I meant, I want to say goodnight. I want my sisters to know that I love them before I leave their lives forever," I said and continued away from the vampire.

"Very well," he said quietly as I was walking away. I paused in the doorway to listen to him. "Make it quick, we will finish this in ten."

I nodded and exited the room. My mom was passed out on the couch in the living room, and to the left of the couch was the twins' room. I came over to it and rapped on the slightly opened door with my knuckles. I pushed the door open a bit more with my foot. Inside, Kris and Katie were lying on one of the small beds and Bridgette was sitting on the floor beside it.

"Hi," I mumbled quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping twins, and I got right to the point. "I... I'm leaving."

"What? Your leaving?" she whispered, not in surprise, she didn't have any emotion at all. Then she remembered what I had said before about leaving and never coming back. "No, you aren't... You can't be..."

"Yes, I am. I can. And I will. You can't stop me," I tried not to make myself sound as curt as I was, but I didn't want her to coax me out of it. Bridgette got up and stood before me. I was standing tall, trying to feel confident, but I was failing miserably.

"Why?"

"Mr. Crepsley."

"Mister... Creps... ley... No, you can't mean... You don't mean...!"

I nodded bitterly. "He's in our room as we speak."

Bridgette's jaw dropped. She never thought I was serious when I told her Mr. Crepsley started working at the school. She tried to run into our room but I stopped her. She attempted to maneuver around me again, but I grabbed a hold on her shoulders and pushed her down. Both of us paused when we heard a yawn. It was Kris. She stretched her arms, and while she was doing that, Bridgette and I made our way into the kitchen, so we could be a bit less quiet without waking anyone else. Bridgette tried again to go to the room. "No, don't," I stopped her with a certain harshness in my voice that made her freeze on the spot. "Just let me leave."

"But, I can't!" Bridgette sobbed. "I can't let you leave. You have so much in your life now! Think about Dad, Kristen, Katelyn! Think of June! Do you think they wouldn't miss you horribly and search to the ends of the Earth to find you?" Tears were streaming down her face.

"Think about me," she whispered. "The only reason _I_ don't leave is because of you. I want to be there for you, and I want you to be there for me. You're my sister. My best friend."

"I'm going," I growled.

"Fine," Bridgette sighed. "But just remember. I _hate_ you." Those words made me feel like my heart was being squeezed.

"I love you too, Bridgette."

"Don't go!" Bridgette collapsed on the floor. She wasn't even bothering to be quiet now. "First Dad, now you, it's far too much to handle! I don't think I could do it!"

"Would you stop thinking about yourself and think about me for once! Do you know what kind of hell I've been through the passed three years of my life? I need to get away from it," tears welled in my eyes and it was getting harder to speak.

"But... but... I don't think we could make it without you," Bridgette's voice turned into a whisper. I started to reconsider. What if going with Mr. Crepsley wasn't a good idea? Heck, it was never a good idea, just a careless, reckless thought that I had, only to pity myself. It was an attempt to give up. What was I thinking?

"You... you're right," I said. "I need to stay with you guys. I'm staying." I sniffled then I helped Bridgette up off the floor, grabbing her wrist and pulled her up. When we were both standing...

I snapped back to reality.

"Felicity," my sister said quietly, "are you alright?" she asked, noticing my blank stare as I stood in the doorway of Katie and Kris's room.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded. "I just came to say good night, and I love you."

"I love you, too. See you in the morning, Felicity," Bridgette responded, and I couldn't help but smile at the irony of it all. I shut the door slowly and carefully, trying not to bother anyone. I didn't want to leave my sisters, but I knew it was probably best for me. I could never fit in anywhere, but I'd rather not stay here and let people constantly remind me of the fact.

I dragged my feet across the living room floor, but when I saw my mom's face again, I remembered the whole reason I was leaving this place. It was because of her. One, she gave birth to me, which was the number one cause of all my problems, and she made my father leave. I never wanted to see her face again. When I entered my room, I saw that Mr. Crepsley was laying on my bed, the thin, dark purple blanket partly covering him.

"Your bed is very comfortable. I could just fall asleep here," he joked, using his arms that were stretched up behind his head as a pillow. I didn't see any humor in it. I was about to run away from my family forever. I would never see anyone from my childhood ever again. And he was making jokes. What ever happened to him being as serious as a rock?

"I could only imagine. I fall asleep there every night," I said sarcastically. I pulled on my usual black zip up and zipped it about half way. I grabbed my back pack and emptied it out. I threw my history book at the floor, ripped up many of my assignments, and tore many pages out of my math text book. Mr. Crepsley sensed my anger and threw me my teddy bear, the one my sisters had made for me. I bumped me on the head, and I quickly stopped what I was doing at looked over.

Seeing the bear and its cute little black button-eyes, I immediately calmed down and stuffed the bear inside the backpack, along with my mp3 player, triple A batteries, two changes of clothes (I could buy more later) my leftover allowance, my diary with two pens, and the two books I had in the Larten Crepsley series. The bag was nearly full, but I had just enough room for my red and black hairbrush and a picture of the family taken a year before Gryphon left, it was (from left to right) Dad, Gryphon, Bridgette, Kris, Katie, me and Mom. I took a pair of scissors and cut my mom's face out of it. I put the picture in the bag the zipped it up.

I pulled on my black Converse sneakers. "Ready to do this?" I asked the older vampire.

"The question is, are you ready?"

I nodded slightly, then my shoulders sagged. "Do we have to fake my death?" I whined. He nodded. "But how?" I asked. "I'm not a half-vampire, so you can't like, throw me off the roof or something. And we don't have a two story window."

"It is like you can read my mind," Mr. Crepsley said, scratching his scar thoughtfully.

"I have an idea," I said and walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. I stepped up to the medicine cabinet and opened it. A wary-looking Mr. Crepsley was following behind me. I opened it and pulled out a bottle of pills.

"Fake suicide?" I suggested, rattling the pills briefly.

"No," Mr. Crepsley shook his head. "You do not want to put your family through that," he took the bottle from me and put it back on one of the shelves and closed the cabinet. "You will have to run away."

"But then they will look for me."

"Yes," Mr. Crepsley agreed, "but they will get bored of it in a few years time."

"When you say a few years, you mean..."

"Four years or so, maybe a bit more," Mr Crepsley stated matter-a-factly, "You will be eighteen in four years, and by that time you will be considered an adult and you would have been able to leave home already." He had a point. I thought about it. I knew my parents would be searching furiously, but as far as I was concerned, they deserved it. Dad walked off without even saying anything, didn't argue back at my mom when she turned Debzilla and started throwing sluggers around the house, more specifically at peoples' heads.

"Fair enough," I sighed and shrugged, grabbing my glasses off of Bridgette's bed. "There are just a few more things I need. I searched the house for pictures of myself, gathering as many as I could so my mother couldn't give them to the news station. I wanted to make their chances of finding me as slim as possible. I came across a jar under my mom's bed with a wad of cash as thick as a Cirque Du Freak book.

When I went back to my room, I shoved the money and the pictures in the front pocket of my bag. I slung the bag over my shoulder and stood up tall, trying to look as confident as possible. "Let's do this," I said as I took one last look around, taking in every last detail of the room. I didn't want to leave. I didn't think I would be able to, but Mr. Crepsley grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

We climbed out of the window, and when the crisp night air got to me, I shivered. I was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of my favorite fuzzy pajama pants, but I still couldn't shake the cold, empty feeling I had in my heart. Mr. Crepsley noticed me trembling and gave me his long red cloak. I wrapped it around me, and in and instant, I was warm again, although the emptiness still remained. I didn't think it would ever go away.

I looked up at him and took a deep breath. And that's when we left. Hand in hand, Crepsley and I walked down the strip of grass that used to be my backyard, that used to be the place where I would play when I was little. I left as a vampire's assistant, Mr. Crepsley left as a master vampire. Clutching onto my bag for dear life, we left into the cold, lonely, emptiness of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__I went trick-or-treating tonight. It was fun, I got a ton of candy (not litterally) and I have the worst sugar high of my life. Well, it's bad for everyone else, anyway._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>

Felicity's POV

Two years later...

"Morning, Sunshine," I said to Crepsley ironically as I stretched my arms up above my head and yawned. I looked around the darkness of the forest for that familiar, scarred face. I found him sitting on the ground by a luminous fire, poking at it with a stick.

I edged over to the fire groggily. I didn't want to wake up, I wanted to sleep the rest of this cold, late October night away, but I knew I couldn't. We wouldn't be staying here long, and I still had to get a bit of training into my day... night... whatever this was.

"Do you not think it is a bit strange to be calling a vampire 'Sunshine'? And do you mean good night?" Mr. Crepsley corrected me. I groaned. He was my mentor, not my English teacher, for goodness sake!

"Good evening then, hideous darkness of the night," I fixed my "error". It wasn't the nicest thing I had ever said, but it could have been worse if I wanted it to be.

"Do not be rude, Miss Taylor," Mr. Crepsley complained. I rolled my eyes.

"Learn to get used to it. I didn't get a lot of sleep, and I doubt I ever will again. I'm grouchy."

Mr. Crepsley paused for a moment. It was an awkward silence. After a few moments, the uncomfortable quiet was broken. "You should make some food. I am starving," Mr. Crepsley complained again, rubbing his belly. Would he ever stop complaining?

"You have two hands that aren't broken, do it yourself," I retorted as I crawled a bit closer to the fire. It had been nearly two weeks since we had been staying in this forest, and they were the worst two weeks of my life. I was starting to think I was better off back home where people would taunt me, or if I was lucky, ignore me every day.

We had been staying in forests, crypts, forgotten buildings and churches. I would prefer a hotel, but Mr. C didn't like hotels. Even though it had been two years, we still had only stayed in a hotel once, so staying in a hotel seemed more like a treat now.

"Enough of your mood swings," Mr Crepsley snapped. "I know you have been having a rough time. But you agreed to becoming my assistant, so you must behave as an assistant."

"No," I refused stubbornly and crawled away, back to where I was sleeping in the cave before. My spaghetti strap top and thin, ripped jeans weren't doing a very good job at keeping me warm, and soon I was shivering all over. I crawled back over to the fire and Mr. Crepsley saw how cold I was and threw his cape to me. (He could never stay mad at me, even when I said something mean or disrespectful to him, he would normally give me an evil glare that unsettled me for a moment, but then he would be all happy-happy-joy-joy five minutes later.) I immediately draped the long piece of thick cloth over my small shoulders and sat there in the glow of the fire. Oh, how I longed to wear this again.

"Aaah... warmness..." I breathed then fell backward on the hard earth with a thud. Seconds later, I had fallen asleep. The last thing I heard was Mr. Crepsley chuckling quietly. Whoever had the pleasure of hearing him laugh was lucky, because what a calming sound it was. A calming sound indeed...

^ – ^

"Look at me!" I laughed at my mentor, "I'm you!" I ran around with Mr. Crepsley's cape draped over my shoulders. I ran and stopped before him. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked like he wanted to strangle me. I pulled a pseudo ninja pose, as if to say, "Fight me, and you can have your cape back."

"Felicity, give my cloak back to me now, or so help me, I will–"

"You'll what?" I challenged him, smirking, bringing the cape up to cover my face like a stereotypical vampire. I loved messing with him. "What are you gonna do?" I giggled and circled around him, and I could tell he was plotting his next maneuver against me. It was always hard for most people to tell what this vampire would do, but I always managed to figure him out. I knew him too well.

"This," he said plainly and tried to grab my arms to pin me down. Despite his advantage over me, I dodged him. I managed to get over to a tree and hide behind it. I stifled a giggle. I loved acting childish, despite my age.

"Felicity," Mr. Crepsley yelled, getting quite annoyed. "Stop this! Do you have to be so difficult? Just hand it over!"

"Fiiiiine..." I sighed and took off the cape and handed it to him. "Oh, now I'm cold!" I rubbed my arms up and down to try to generate heat.

"There are going to be long, cold, winter nights ahead of us for the next few months. Get used to the cold or freeze." I knew he didn't mean that. He wouldn't let me be cold. He didn't have the heart. If he made me cry, he would almost surely start crying as well. If he let me be cold, just imagine what he would do! He'd probably just jump right into a snow bank!

I pulled my sweatshirt out of my overstuffed backpack and put it on. It was getting a bit small for me. I had lost a lot of weight because I was eating less, exercising more, and I was less happy, although I would never think that was possible. Then when I hit fifteen, I hit a growth spurt and grew about four inches. I was stronger, much stronger. I was getting better at fighting, too, but I was still no match for a fully blooded master vampire such as Larten Crepsley.

I already knew karate. I took lessons when I was six up until I was twelve. I never applied my skill, I never had a reason to, but I practiced it occasionally. I hadn't practiced it in over two years, but I got to show my stuff and practice it a bit when Mr. Crepsley and I had trained. He often commented on my karate skills. I usually just shrugged it off. I hated being complimented.

Mr. Crepsley was a much better martial artist than myself. I bet he could KO Chuck Norris with a single punch. Crepsley always went easy on me, but I knew that when he blooded me he wouldn't go easy anymore, and I would end up with my butt kicked. I always feared that day.

Ours was a confusing relationship; we argued and bickered often, but we were best friends and would do anything for each other. We often got in each other's way, but we made a good team. I was stubborn, he was stubborn, I was playful and goofy, he was serious and didn't understand my way of expressing my feelings. I had a major crush on him, but I didn't think he felt that way about me because, you know. I was only sixteen.

I knew vampires didn't care much about age, since most of them were so old anyway – Mr. Crepsley was around a hundred sixty years old at the time. Some vampires were twice as old as their mate though, while some were roughly the same age.

Vampires rarely mingled with humans, but if it just so happened that a vampire and a human were to fall in love, that vampire's age would without a doubt creep out the human, but the vampire wouldn't be affected at all. Take Gavner and Liz for example. Gavner looked like he was in his late twenties, while Liz was pushing fifty! Gavner didn't care. But the heartless witch did, and had to break poor Gavvy's heart... Ahem.

The next day, I was wrapped up in my training with Mr. Crepsley. We were practicing martial arts, and I was a bit out of it. I wasn't faring well at all, and it was seriously aggravating me.

Mr. Crepsley managed to pin me down on the ground by my arms for the fourth time in twenty-five minutes. I was doing horribly, but I had no idea why. He was going just as easy as he would have any other day, but I couldn't even get a good swing at him. What was wrong with me?

I shoved him off by his chest and pushed myself off the ground and stood tall as he stumbled back. "Would you just give me a frigging chance?" I complained as he steadied himself.

"If you were a good martial artist, you would have a chance," he said as he swiftly brushed down his red shirt and black pants. He was only saying that to get me mad, so I would fight with more power. I wanted to tear that stupid vampire's head off!

At this I growled, "I'm gonna kick your– oof!" I grunted as my back connected with a tree that Mr. Crepsley had roundhouse-kicked me into. This guy was gonna kill me! I slid down the tree until I was planted safely on the cold dirt floor.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked through clenched teeth as I stared at him with a cold glare that could have turned Medusa to stone. He only smirked. From that moment on, I was officially ticked off. Larten started saying something about being a good fighter and a worthy vampire, and what it takes to be those things, but I was too in pain and too mad at the vampire to listen to him rant.

Instead, I grabbed a not-too-thick, not-too-thin branch from the ground and gripped it tightly in my hand until my knuckles turned white. Mr. Crepsley was too wrapped up in arrogantly demonstrating some karate move I had already learned a billion years ago to notice that I was planning an "attack" against him. I chucked the branch at his torso. Yes, that was my definition of an attack, thank you for your concern.

He sensed the "danger" and dodged the oncoming stick, moving about a foot to the right. "Why did you do that? You do not use weapons in karate! Those are the rules!" Mr. Crepsley reminded me redundantly. Of course I knew that. Karate means "empty hand" in Japanese, duh.

"Rules are meant to be broken," I grumbled sourly. "If no one broke them, why would there be rules?" Mr. Crepsley came over to me and ruffled my already messy, black hair that had been cut very short. It was only about two inches long now. I hated my long hair. I swatted his hand away, still wearing a frown.

"You are a piece of work, you know that?" Mr. Crepsley said as he smiled at me. He cracked his knuckles then stood to his full height (which was probably around six foot eight. *shivers*). "That is enough training for one day, do you not agree?" I shrugged. I wished I could have accomplished something, but at that point, I didn't think it would have mattered. I could never beat Mr. Crepsley.

"We will be leaving to the next country tomorrow night." Mr. Crepsley told me. When I looked up, I realized that he was already walking back to our temporary campsite. I had to run to catch up.

"Will we be able to stay in a hotel this time?" I asked hopefully. I couldn't stand to sleep in another forest or rat infested crypt. If I had to, I would scream then go on a rampage and destroy everything in my path. Well, maybe not. But I wouldn't enjoy it very much.

"I do not see why not," Crepsley grumbled. I could tell he was reluctant to stay in a hotel.

"Yay!" I squealed happily then spun in a circle, flailing my arms around. Mr. Crepsley was staring at me as if I had four heads, and my smile grew wider. Then, I grew nauseous, so I stopped spinning and stood next to the vampire with a giant grin on my face. Although I had been Crepsley's assistant for two years, he still hadn't gotten used to my odd way of expressing my happiness. If Seba had seen any one of his assistants doing that, he would kick them in the pants. Maybe that's why Mr. Crepsley was always so serious.

"Why can't we just go to the hotel now?" I asked my mentor.

"There are two reasons why we cannot do that. One, we have not left camp yet, and two, the sun is rising." He smirked down at me.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that."

"I am sure you did, Felicity."

^ – ^

I knew Mr. C would have my head if I woke him up before the sun set, especially since it wasn't that important. But he was lying there, all asleep-like on a cold, hard cave floor, when he could have been in a fluffy, warm hotel bed. That, and the wait was killing me.

"Mr. Crepsley," I whispered and poked the sleeping vampire's side with my index finger.

"Uhhhg..." he groaned and rolled over to the other side, so he was facing away from me.

My shoulders sagged."Mr. Crepsley," I hissed again and poked him repeatedly, leaning over him. He tried to swat my hand away.

"Go away... just a few more... minutes..." he sighed and wrapped his thin blanket tighter around him. I tried not to giggle but couldn't help it. Oh, he's just so cute when he's asleep! I continued to smile as I retreated to my little corner of the cave.

Five minutes, or at least what felt like five minutes passed before I couldn't handle sitting around the cave to watch my mentor sleep any longer. We had to leave before I had a spaz attack. I scanned the cave. To my left was a pile of rocks. Across from me was the slumbering Mr. Crepsley, and next to him was the entrance of the cave, in which the slowly dwindling twilight could be seen.

I reached over to the pile of rocks, grabbed one and tossed it in the air a few times. After doing this for about thirty seconds, I got a brilliant idea. I tossed the rock in the direction of my mentor. I aimed for the wall behind him, but it hit his shoulder, narrowly missing his head. He moved over and grunted. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and smirked, getting another idea. I rolled another at him. And another, then he sat up.

"What was that?" he asked me. I had to come up with something. Good thing I could think quickly, even under pressure.

"Uh... the cave's collapsing!" I lied. He looked at me oddly for a moment as if he didn't know what a collapsing cave was. I ran out of the cave and as I came to the exit, I threw another rock at him, and kicked another pile of rocks to make the sound of a collapsing cave, or at least, a rather pathetic one. Instantaneously, the groggy vampire jumped up, grabbed our bags and flitted out of the cave, pushing me ahead of him.

We stood outside the cave in silence. When Mr. Crepsley realized that our cave would not collapse, he sighed then glared at me. "You lied about our cave collapsing," he stated the obvious.

"I couldn't wait for you to wake up! You sleep for a really long time!" I whined. He put his hands around my neck and made choking noises in the fake attempt to strangle me. He sighed and put his hands back down by his sides. I giggled.

"Well, now that we are both awake, we should get some training done, aye?" Mr. Crepsley suggested.

"No aye!" I whined, "I thought we were going to go straight to a hotel!"

"We have all night. We are not too far from a city, and you still fight like a child."

"Well," I scoffed, "You _smell_ like a _baby_ with a dirty diaper, Mr. Bed-Head." I ruffled his bright orange, messy hair.

Mr. Crepsley glared at me. "Very well," he said. "I can bathe when we get to the hotel. But we _will_ train tonight, before we leave. Whether you like it or not."

"Fine," I groaned.

"Do I really smell?" my mentor asked, smelling under his arm.

"Yes," I answered truthfully.

Our training went well, I managed to elbow Crepsley a few times in the ribs as well as dodge him, but he hit me and pinned me down many, many times. Stupid training! We trained for three hours straight, and my whole body ached. I couldn't wait until we got to the hotel.

Mr. Crepsley told me that our next training session would be with swords and knives. I didn't want to train with knives, because I didn't want to accidentally kill Crepsley or something. (I really didn't want to have to kill anyone or anything. Mr. Crepsley would watch me oddly when we hunted for deer, because after I killed one I would apologize to it.) Maybe I could get Vancha to teach me how to fight! I wondered if Mr. Crepsley would get jealous.

Mr. Crepsley was flitting us to a hotel. I was on his back, holding on for dear life. Soon, we came upon a city where there were multiple inns. We searched around for the best one until I got so tired that Mr. Crepsley had to carry me. The sun was about to rise, so we needed to get inside quick.

Mr. Crepsley booked us a hotel room, using his alias, "Vur Horston". I was posing as his daughter for the stay. It was definitely weird. I had taken to calling him "Dad" as we walked down the hallway toward our room, and it was quite awkward for him. I could tell he found it unsettling, so I continued to do it until he yelled at me to stop.

"Sorry!" I apologized, then smirked slightly, "Daddy." That crossed the line, so he turned as red as his shirt. I could not stop laughing after that. Until, when we got inside the room, we realized that there was only one bed in there. I immediately stopped laughing and looked up at him seriously.

"There's Wi-Fi in this hotel, right?" I asked my important question. That wasn't what he was expecting me to ask.

He looked at me oddly. "I do believe they said there was. Although, I am not quite sure what Wi-Fi–" I put my hand over his mouth to shut him up and I pulled out my phone. I quickly got onto the internet and got onto YouTube and typed in "nice hotel".

"What is thi–"

"Just watch it."

"Okay." I put the phone in front of his face so he could see the screen.

The video began with a close up view of a guy's face, switching back and forth from his face, to another guy's face. The words "nice hotel" were streaming across the bottom of the screen in rainbow letters. The guys were singing, "_This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed." _

Then it showed their bodies, and you could see they were wearing hotel bathrobes._ "Look at this hotel room, whatya see? Dollar dollar sign, dollar sign, dollar dollar dollar sign. Don't have money so we can't touch anything. Put it on the credit card, DEBT DEBT! This room's cool. This room's fine, it's got internet so I can get online. This internet is kinda slow. This internet is kinda slow._

_ "This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed. This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed._

_ "Walk into the room and I see, housekeeping took my stuff, so mean. There, that's better. You scared me half to death, yeah, thought I lost my sweater. There's only one bed, there's only one bed. Call it in the air now, tails or heads? Both. We're sleeping in the same bed. But it's okay, cuz we're not telling. Anyone._

_ "This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed. This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed."_

The next part is where Mr. Crepsley got freaked out._ "We're showering at the same time. We're showering at the same time, cuz there's two shower heads, not one. Two shower heads, not one. We're showering at the same time, we're showering at the same time cuz there's two shower heads not one. And it's okay, cuz we're not looking._

_ "This is a nice hotel! This is a nice hotel indeed, it's a nice hotel indeed. This is a nice hotel!"_

"What was the significance of that?" Mr. Crepsley asked me, sounding annoyed.

I shrugged as I put my phone away. "This place reminds me of it. I wonder if there is actually two shower heads!" I suggested then ran into the bathroom to check. I laughed at what I saw.

"Yep, two shower heads," I said seriously.

"We are taking turns," Mr. Crepsley said sternly.

"Of course!" I laughed. "Make your shower quick. I need one too." He nodded and headed off to the shower. I slumped down on the couch and kicked off my shoes. I put my feet up on the wooden coffee table, found the remote and pressed the little red "on" button at the top of the device.

I examined my dirty socks with the smiling cats on them and noticed how many holes there were in the socks. I would have to get new clothes later. The TV was on a news network. There was a story about an armed robbery, the man's weapon was a pillowcase full of potatoes. Where is the world going to when the news becomes a sitcom?

"There is no recent news about the missing girl from *enter disclosed location here*. Investigators say that they are rendering this case hopeless." The screen came to another reporter.

"As you can see, the investigation has reached across the country," the anchorman said monotonously. "Investigators are searching vigilantly for Felicity Taylor with no luck so far. She seems to just have fallen off the face of the earth." Hearing my name made my jaw drop. They were still looking for me. And the search to the other side of the country! My attention was so glued to the TV, I didn't even notice Mr. Crepsley when he walked in.

"Felicity?"

"Shh!" I ignored him.

The TV showed a picture of me in the corner of the screen, a picture from when I was fourteen. I knew I would have to keep a lower than low profile now. My heart sank at what I saw next. Bridgette was standing in front of the house, and a reporter was holding a microphone in front of her. "I'm just sort of tired of all the press and stuff, you know?" Bridgette said and wiped a few tears away from her face, "I just want my sister to come home. But we won't have privacy even then, will we?"

It had been two years. Two years since I left, and they hadn't given up hope yet. It was amazing.

"Felicity?" Mr. Crepsley said my name again, and this time I jumped. He only had a towel around his waist, and his hair was still very wet. "Th-the shower is free." He smiled a bit. I nodded my silent thanks and went into the bathroom.

I turned on the water to a warm temperature then stripped my clothes and jumped in. The water was nice, and it felt good to take a real shower for the first time in two years. As I took a shower I looked up at the second shower head. I didn't understand the concept of having two of them, but I imagined there must be a reason, as there's usually a reason for most things. When I was finished I came out and dried my hair with a towel, then gave my body a quick rub-down with the the fluffy white towel before I wrapped it around me.

I stepped out into the room and I saw that Mr. Crepsley was dressed in red plaid pajama pants and no shirt. When he saw that I only had a towel around me, he blushed and looked away. Oh, Mr. Crepsley, you shy little vampire. I grabbed a change of clothes, more specifically my fuzzy PJ pants and a tee shirt and slipped into them, but not before I made sure he was looking away from me.

"So, how are we gonna work this out?" I asked my mentor who was sitting on the king sized bed, referring to our sleeping arrangements for the stay here.

"You may have the bed. I will manage," Mr. Crepsley offered.

"No, Mr. Crepsley," I politely declined. "I know you want the bed, I can see it in your eyes."

Mr. Crepsley laughed. "No, I insist that you take the bed." I sighed. We both knew how this was going to end, if we didn't end it now. We would end up arguing about it all day and not get any sleep.

"I am taking the couch. Do _not_ say you will, because if you do, I'll go to the Cirque Du Freak, chop your coffin into little bits then feed the pieces to squirrels!" I vowed. I wondered if squirrels liked the taste of coffins...

"Fine."

Mr. Crepsley lied down and pulled the comforter over him. I went over to the couch and lied there with a thin blanket draped over me. Mr. Crepsley had not yet attempted to fall asleep and was looking at me. I eventually got bored of letting him stare at me and said, "Good morning Crepsley, see you in the night."

"Aye," my mentor said sleepily and buried his face in one of the many pillows on the bed. I tried to get comfy on the couch. It wasn't exactly working. I was cold, and the couch was annoying and hard to get comfortable on. I didn't end up falling asleep until about three o'clock, and once I did, I woke up again. The couch looked a lot more comfortable than it was, and I immediately concluded that I was a bigger idiot than I thought I was. Why couldn't I take the bed when I had the chance?

With any stroke of luck, I would find comfortable position, but that luck never came. Grumbling, I sat up. I was so tired, but I couldn't sleep. I was stuck in reverse. I stood up, gripping my teddy bear and looked over at my mentor. He was asleep, comfortable and warm. Stupid vampire. Here I was, wide awake, uncomfortable and cold.

Deciding not to waste any more time brooding about my misfortune, I crawled into the bed my mentor was in. Under the covers, I snuggled right next to the sleeping vampire, careful not to wake him. It was like I was laying on a big, fluffy cloud, and heat was radiating off his body was wonderful. I could not move, because before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. What a nice, peaceful sleep it was. So peaceful, that I barely noticed when Mr. Crepsley snuggled up to me, using me as his teddy bear. Mr. Crepsley didn't seem to mind either because soon, he became my pillow.

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><p><em><strong><span>AN**:_  
><em>I suggest you actually look up the song. You can find it on you tube. It's called, "nice hotel" by juliansmith87. It's pretty funny. Anyway.. I update tomorrow! Hope to see you there!<em>


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**_ Yo! I am high off of sugar again! *sigh* Life is good... Anyway, HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEEN!__ *digs through candy bag* Nom nom nom... Yummy Skittles... Sorry I'm updating so late, but I just got done with my homework that my teachers so evilly gave to me... What time is it anyway? 5:57. Eh, that's not too late. Anyway, I'm wasting precious daylight here talking to you about whatever it is we were just talking about... Fudge, I need to go do something about this sugar high, like... run in circles a thousand times or yell at someone. CANDY CORN! *noms candy corn*__Ehnchoy! (That was me saying enjoy with a mouth full of candy corn. Clever, right? Heh, yeah).**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine:<strong>

Felicity's POV

"Uh, hello, Felicity," I heard my mentor greet me awkwardly, purposely waking me up. I yawned and looked up at his face. He was eying me oddly, and that's when I remembered that I had been using his chest as my pillow.

"Oh, hi," I replied groggily. "W-what's up?"

"I believe I could be asking you the same question," Crepsley smirked, and I felt like slapping him. I quickly moved away from him, putting a safe six inch gap between us, although I didn't want to. He was quite comfortable and made a great pillow.

"D-do you want, like, breakfast or something?" I suggested, getting out of the bed and rushing over to the couch, where I turned on the TV.

"I am not hungry yet, but thank you." I nodded. I pulled my mp3 – I didn't have an iPod, but this cheap little piece of plastic that didn't hold many songs – out of my bag and put the headphones in. I turned it on and set it to shuffle. The song "Lay Me Down" came on. Oh, how I loved that song.

"_Well this is how it starts, two lovers in the dark,_

_On the run, from the one that they called Sheriff Spark,_

_Six guns by their side and bullets around the waist,_

_Two shots to the sky sing the sound for the chase."_

I found myself singing along to the lyrics. I saw Mr. Crepsley watching me, smiling. I took one of the headphones out of my ears, just in case he decided to say anything, and continued to sing to him.

_The safe was nearly empty and they were nearly free,_

_but were seen by the good eye of the mean Billie Green,_

_and he screamed at the top of his lungs 'They're on the run!'_

_It's the two wild siders, grab your holsters and your guns._

_I said, I wish that we could stay here,_

_but I fear our time has come, _

_We could ride out in the darkness,_

_Chasing the rising sun."_

Mr. Crepsley seemed to like the song. Maybe I'd sing it to him again another time.

"_We gotta pack our bags this instant,_

_We're heading south-bound to the next town,_

_And if we all arrive there safely,_

_baby you can..._

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down..._

_Well, it's the story of the two, always on the move,_

_They got nothing left to lose, 'cept their guns and their wounds ,_

_Now they're crossing borders, sheriff's posse on their tail,_

_They'd rather die together than be stuck up in a cell._

_They drank up all the whiskey and they partied every night like it could be the last ,_

_The bounty said shoot on sight,_

_So they chased the endless summer though it came with pride,_

_They wouldn't stop running 'til they found a paradise._

_But the sheriff finally found them with his eyes seeing red,_

_So the lovers had to shoot him down and fill him full of lead,_

_They were finally free to find a place to lay their head,_

_and when they finally did he looked at her and then he said,_

_I said, I think that we can stay here,_

'_Cause I feel our time has come,_

_And we can walk down to the ocean ,_

_and sit with the rising sun._

_So unpack your bags this instant,_

_No more running from town to town,_

_And now that we've arrived here safely,_

_Baby you can..._

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down... _

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down..._

_Well your my green eyed girl and I've been running round with you,_

_It's the afternoon and we got nothing left to do,_

_So wipe the dirt off, or take your shirt off,_

_And we should go hit the Cantina, we got work off._

_I said, it's hot outside let me go swimming in your eyes,_

_We've been running for a while, why don't you lay down, make me smile?_

_I could never ask for nothing better than this,_

_It's just tequila in the beach, that's why it's salty when we kiss._

_I said, I think that we can stay here,_

'_Cause I feel our time has come,_

_And we can walk down to the ocean ,_

_And sit with the rising sun._

_So unpack your bags this instant,_

_No more running from town to town,_

_And now that we've arrived here safely,_

_Baby you can..._

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down... _

_Lay me down..._

_Lay me down... Lay me down..."_

"Strange lyrics... How many songs are on that?" Mr. Crepsley asked me.

"Well, not a lot," I said, "but there are some pretty good ones that I think you will like. I'll show you sometime soon. Right now, I'm making breakfast."

"Do not burn the hotel down," Crepsley joked, smirking a bit. That was a joke – one of the very few – between us. The first time I tried to cook for him two years ago, the food – curse you beef stew! – impossibly burst into flames and almost burned our camp down to ash. He had made fun of me for it occasionally, but I rarely made a big deal of those sort of things and tended to shrug it off.

I walked over to the stove and tapped on the surface of it, wondering what I could cook up. After a few seconds of thinking, I went into one of the cabinets and pulled out an unopened box of cinnamon PopTarts. I set it on the counter and tore off the top, not bothering to be careful as not rip the box.

"Want one?" I offered Crepsley as I took off the wrapper and put the pastry in the toaster.

"What is it?" he asked me in response. He had never heard of a PopTart? Was he living under a rock? Well, he's a vampire. He may as well have been.

"It's a PopTart," I answered joyfully.

"A PopTart?" he asked slowly and looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, a PopTart. It's..." I paused thoughtfully, biting my nail. How are you supposed to describe a PopTart? Now-a-days, the definition for PopTart is Nyan Cat, but I was sure he didn't know what that was either. "Well, it's just a PopTart. They taste great. My reading teacher was obsessed with them, so what more can I say?" I smiled. He was sitting on the couch now, and in the time it took for me to ponder about breakfast, he had gotten dressed, although his hair was a mess still.

"I suppose I could try one."

Within a minute, the PopTarts popped up and I pushed the lever on the toaster up quickly to make the pastries would fly into the air and land on the counter top. I loved doing that. Ah, simple human pleasures. We're weird creatures, aren't we?

I picked them up, but they were too hot to handle, so I tossed them in the air a few times then caught them while hissing, "Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!" before I threw them in my mentors direction. He expertly caught both of the PopTarts that may as well have been on fire. Of course the temperature of the PopTarts didn't bother him at all, the stupid little vampire – that is one of the reasons I wanted to become a vampire soon. Less pain.

He raised one of the PopTarts to his face and eyed it curiously. He shrugged before he bit into it, and he looked surprised. "That is quite good," he smiled then ate the rest, followed by the second one. Get Crepsley to try PopTarts, checked off the list of things to do before I turned twenty. Seriously. That was on the list. It was a whimsical notion, and I never thought I would actually be able to check it off. I lived for these moments.

"Would you like another?" I asked Mr. Crepsley before getting another package out and putting in the toaster (After opening it of course. Do you think I'm stupid?).

"Please." I got the feeling that I would never get my breakfast. Four packages of PopTarts later, – yes, this man had eaten eight whole PopTarts! Most of the time, I could barely finish the two in a package! – I got my fill of sweet, sugary, without a doubt unhealthy PopTarts, eating two packages, and I was satisfied. As was Crepsley.

When the sugar caught up to me, I got the worst sugar-high of my life. It was more unbearable for Larten – he had to watch me act like an idiot all night. I was actually enjoying watching him become annoyed.

A bit later into the night, I had gotten the idea that Crepsley and I should go to an animal shelter – although I called it an "aminal" shelter just to make him smile – and find the cutest kitten there and name it Carl, even if it was a girl. At this, he threatened to admit me into a mental hospital.

"It's the sugar!" I said defensively, "Too much and it will do funny things to your head!"

"Believe me, you are never allowed to even _look _at sugar again," he vowed.

"You can't forbid me from sugar!" I argued. "You aren't my father!" I crossed my arms over my chest and pretended to be mad with him.

"In this hotel, I am," he said, referring to late yesterday, when I called him my dad. I laughed, then it died down quickly when I remembered my real dad. My sisters, June, my mom. I had forgiven my mom a long time ago and I considered running back to her to say how sorry I was, but I knew I shouldn't do that. The teasing at school would never cease and my life at home could never improve, and I knew that. I wasn't going to pretend like I thought otherwise.

I missed my family and friend terribly. I wanted to go back home to see them, and a lot of the time I called myself stupid because I couldn't handle a couple of bullies and had to run away with Larten to deal with it. I was an idiot, and there was no denying it.

I was wreck for the first six months of being Larten's assistant. I would cry myself to sleep every day, just to have Mr. Crepsley look at me sympathetically and stand there looking stupid, and it made me feel helpless and alone. He never knew what to do when I cried. If he tried to do anything, I usually pushed him away, so he eventually stopped even bothering to interfere altogether.

Sometimes when I was sad, I just needed a hug. But who did I have? Sure, there was Crepsley, but do you know how awkward it was to hug him? It was super weird. I didn't have anyone. I had no friends – other than Crepsley – or family and I was miserable.

Even after two years, I still became depressed now and then, but usually only when I thought of my old life – my family – and it was hard not to. That's like trying not to think about penguins right after you're asked not to think about penguins. It's difficult.

I knew I couldn't go back home. I was sure everyone was a lot happier with me gone because I tended to get in the way and cause a lot of problems. Like that time I almost burnt the house down while making Ramen noodles for my sisters and me when my parents weren't home. Or, another time, when I brought a stray cat home and Katie was convinced it had given her rabies. There was also that time when I was seven, I brought my pet rat in for show-and-tell, and Mr. squeakers "accidentally" got into Meredith's lunchbox. When she opened it up to find that the rodent had eaten her chocolate-chip cookie and potato chips, she screamed continuously – for about thirty seconds – then fainted. What a baby she was, that Meredith. I did many horrible things in my youth, but those were stories for another time.

Mr. Crepsley noticed by sudden sullen mood and came over to me and lay a hand on my shoulder. This didn't bother me as much as it used to. "I do believe we have lessons to complete," he said and I groaned.

"Do we _have_ to?" I complained. The last thing I wanted to do right now was learn things. Especially about the vampire ways or about blood. I already knew almost everything there was to learn from reading the Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak books. The only thing I didn't really know much about was vampire history, but that wasn't the most important thing in the world. I knew all about the vampire ways, and even more about blood, why vampires drink it, how to feed, how often to feed, how much to take, what not to drink from (never drink from a snake-boy, no matter how tempting - or creepy - that sounds). I wasn't particularly excited about feeding, but it didn't bother me that much. I didn't dislike the taste of blood – although I'd never crave it! – and I wasn't squeamish around it.

"I suppose we do not _have_ to do lessons tonight," Mr. Crepsley sighed. It was as if he enjoyed our lessons – the ones where I perpetually talked back to him and very seldom listened to even a word he said. The lessons annoyed me, and I could tell he hated teaching them. If I had it my way, I would make it so Crepsley would know how to read and give him "Teaching For Dummies" if that even existed, and I would get myself "Vampires Ways and Customs For Dummies". And again, if only it existed.

"So does this mean I have the night off?" I asked hopefully. Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes!

"Yes."

YESSS! "You're the best!" I said and wrapped my arms around him. As he looked at me as if I were a madwoman, I skipped over to the fluffy hotel bed and I jumped in. I attempted to fall asleep again. The warmth of the blanket surrounded me and I instantly became tired. My eyelids felt heavy and soon I could feel myself slipping into a deep sleep once I heard the soft, low chuckle of my mentor.

Many hours later, evening fell upon us and I was forced to awaken. Alas, it was time to leave the hotel. Time to say goodbye to the fluffy hotel bed, the twin shower heads that I found so useless, the mini fridge and cabinets packed with all the foods Mr. Crepsley had never heard of. Time to bid farewell to the wonderful flat-screen television. The only thing we took with us – were allowed to take with us without getting arrested, anyway – were the memories of the many awkward moments Crepsley and I had shared there. Then, we went back to living in forests. Back to my reality that I despised so much.

But first, before we left into the cruelty of the outside world, I wanted to do something fun. I went to the library – I know what you're thinking. It's a library. How fun can that be? – to look up some Halloween events happening in the town we were in. There was nothing fun in this town, but there was something in the next town that caught my attention.

_Salem 3D Haunted House, Halloween special!_ the ad on the computer read. _$3 off tickets for kids and adults. One night only! Come for a good fright!_ Seemed interesting enough. Cheesy advertisement though. It explained a bit about the haunted house, as well as showed some pictures of inside. It was a picture of a witch type thing, and it was super cool. I asked if I could print out the ad, and the librarian gave me permission. I brought it back to the hotel and gave it to Mr. Crepsley. He scanned it over and but looked wary.

"I do not know," he said warily, "seems like a scam to me."

"Well it's not supposed to be real monsters!" I shouted at him. "They're supposed to be people in costumes designed to scare people to the point that they need to use an asthma inhaler. Even if they don't have asthma. It will be fun. We should go!"

"How much are tickets?" he asked to no one in particular and looked at the paper. "Eight seventy-five."

"Three dollars off for today, because it's Halloween," I said joyfully. "So they will only be only five dollars and seventy five cents each. We have to go, Mr. Crepsley!"

"Alright," Mr. Crepsley sighed. "I guess it is worth a shot."

"They create the illusion that you are going to be dragged off into a corner and killed," I explained to Crepsley as we were on our way to the 3d haunted house with the acclaim for making people scream their heads off and make them feel like they're gonna pee their pants.

Mr. Crepsley sighed. "I still do not see the point in this," he said, "but you seem pretty excited about it." I could tell he was reluctant to continue down the street toward our impending fright – or mine at least.

"No," I said, "This isn't excitement. I'm terrified."

Mr. Crepsley laughed. "How could you be scared?" he chuckled, "we have not even gotten there yet! Are you really _that_ scared?"

"Yeah," I admitted shamefully and blushed. Strolling down the street in Salem, I gazed about the the fortune teller booths and the various haunted Halloween attractions. The town was far from modern and looked like something out of "Halloween Town". It had a very spooky atmosphere, perfect for Halloween, but I had a feeling the creepiness exceeded even beyond the spooky season.

"This had better scare me," Mr. Crepsley grumbled as we came upon the entrance of the 3D haunted house of spookiness.

"Mr. Crepsley, I don't think that anything can scare you," I stated matter-of-factly.

"It is just that I do not want to have paid eleven dollars and fifty cents for nothing," Mr. Crepsley stated, ignoring my comment about him being fearless.

"You're so stingy," I complained, then I smiled warmly. "Trust me," I said, "it will be great. I read a bunch of stuff about it and it seems pretty scary."

"I hope so."

We came to a very crowded area in which tickets to the haunted house were being sold. There was a man there at a booth. He was starting to seem overwhelmed by the swarm of people. When the crowd began to trickle out of existence, Mr. Crepsley and I casually sauntered over to the booth, and Mr. Crepsley handed him the money. I came to realize that the man behind the table was dressed as a stereotypical vampire. Gray face paint, a red and black cape, red paint or maybe lipstick at the corner of his mouth to look like blood, a pseudo goatee and mustache and a white puffy collar shirt that would better suit a pirate. It was such a stupid costume. So childish for a man in his early forties.

The "vampire" gave us our tickets – a small slip of orange paper – and I held mine in my hand tightly, nerves threatening to make me accidentally rip it.

"What are we in for?" Mr. Crepsley asked the man, who's name-tag said "Frank" on it. Frank the vampire. Frank smiled broadly, and I could see the cheap plastic fangs in his mouth, covering up his real teeth. By this, I could tell he was glad to be able to use his fake Transylvanian accent.

"Well," he started, honestly sounding pretty stupid with his horrible excuse for an accent, "it will be very scary. Ghosts, ghouls and zombies at every corner. It's lots of fun!"

"Am I going to die of scaredom?" I asked simply. Frank chuckled, and Mr. Crepsley glared at me with a cold glare that meant, "Shut up!"

"Nothing is going to reach out and grab onto you," Frank told me. "Nothing like that. You will be scared, though, and you will have a lot of fun.

"As for dying," he paused, "no one has died yet. You seem like a tough couple, I think you will be okay." He smiled warmly.

"Come on, Crepsley!" I grinned and pulled Crepsley after me by his hand. He nodded to Frank. Frank looked back at him, understanding his pain. Or at least trying to look like he understood.

There was a basket before we entered that held 3D glasses in it, and each person took one pair and put them over their eyes. Mr. Crepsley looked rather stupid with them, but I'm sure I looked no better than he did.

Mr. Crepsley and I showed our tickets to a lady behind another counter. Why she was wearing a bunny costume was beyond my comprehension. The lady gave us back the tickets after she verified that they were real. We were told to put them in the mouth of the clown. I didn't know what that meant at first, but then I realized what she meant when I saw the fake demonic clown standing next to the black curtain in which we would enter to commence our scaredom.

I stood at a distance from it and crumpled up the ticket. I shot the paper ball into the clowns mouth. It landed right in. "Three points!" I joked and punched the air with my fist. Mr. Crepsley smiled and put the ticket in the clown's mouth. He then told me he had the oddest suspicion that the clown was going to come to life and chomp his hand off.

Mr. Crepsley and I were considered a group because we came by ourselves. They wanted maximum scare-i-tude for us, so they tried to make as small groups as possible. But it was okay that I was in such a small group. I always felt safe with Crepsley. Except for when he was mad. You never would want to get on that side.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, a woman dressed as a witch appeared from behind a black curtain.

"Hello!" She said in a hoarse, croaky witch voice that unsettled me. "Wel-"

"Hi!" I answered back, smiling and waving, trying to get rid of my nerves. I could tell she was trying to stay in character, but she couldn't help but smile.

"And welcome to our 3D house of horror!" she continued. "Come, come!" she ushered us in, and we slowly and cautiously entered. "Don't touch anything, and nothing will touch you. Try to make it out... Alive!" She seemed to just disappear behind the curtain as her cackling laugh faded into the distance.

We were then left to fend for ourselves. We didn't know where exactly we had to go, but there was only one path, so we inferred that we should take that path.

"Mr. Crepsley..." I said in a scared voice. "She didn't mean... The man at the beginning said that I wouldn't die, and my life wouldn't be threatened. Now I'm freaked out," I admitted.

"Well," Mr. Crepsley smirked, "it is too late to back out now!" Oh, so very supportive!

The walls were painted with florescent blue, yellow, green and orange. The effect it had with the 3D glasses was crazy awesome, but scary at the same time. If there was any scary music in the background, I was too nervous and anxious to realize it.

There was a corpse laying on the floor. I nudged it with my foot and it growled at me. As we went along the corridor, there were black curtains at regular intervals; twenty feet. Curtain after curtain, more scares lay ahead. Most of them were props, but sometimes there was real people dressed in costume to poke their heads out and scare us.

There was a little girl in a corner with fake blood all over her face, and she was crying. I knew she was all part of the act, but I felt bad for her. Mr. Crepsley felt the same way when one of the actors walked up to her and attacked her. _It's all an act,_ I tried to remind myself. The zombie ghoul thing that mauled the girl came up to me, not too close, but within spitting distance, and screeched.

"Oh, you're such a sexy beast!" I taunted it, not knowing what else to do. I panicked. _Don't touch anything, and nothing will touch you_, were the famous words I heard before I came in here. I would show obeisance to those words because if I didn't, and one of those hideous monsters touched me, I would probably have a heart attack.

There was another corpse laying on the floor as we were walking by.

"Hello, dead body," I said casually but cautiously as we passed by it. We walked another ten feet, and I looked behind me, and there he was. The corpse, crawling at me. It looked ravenous and vicious. As soon as I spotted it, I grabbed onto Crepsley's arm and yelped, "Look behind us!"

Mr. Crepsley looked at it and gasped. "Have I seen you before?" he joked. "I swear, I have seen you somewhere!" That helped calm my nerves somewhat, but then more zombies – about eight – jumped out of the shadows and I screamed.

Too. Many. Zombies! There was a creepy zombie with bright red hair, and in the lighting, it's skin looked purple. It looked somewhat like a Vampaneze, but I knew it wasn't. If is was, Mr. Crepsley would have smelled the different type of blood and made his move, probably attacking him.

I managed a weak chuckle, but I was undeniably terrified. I clung to Mr. Crepsley's arm tighter. I swear there was probably no circulation in his right arm anymore. But I didn't care. I wanted out. Now.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the zombie behind me. Soon, I forgot all about reality and I felt as if the zombie was real. A tear unwillingly traveled down my cheek and I shuttered then moaned, "Okay, you can stop following me now." My voice sounded feeble and pathetic. The zombie rose to it's feet, and I could see it was wearing what looked like a robe. A white robe covered in blood. I shivered. I felt like I wasn't moving, but I knew I was, I was just unaware of my feet carrying me farther away from that zombie and closer to what I thought was my impending death.

When nearing the end of the last corridor, a swarm of zombies and ghouls blocked our way of the door. Upon their arrival, I threw my 3D glasses on the floor. A particularly menacing-looking ghoul moaned and came closer to me. The zombie was wearing tattered clothes – a tee-shirt and jeans – covered in blood. There was blood on his face and dark circles under his eyes.

"Get any closer," I warned, "and I'll file a restraining order on you!" The zombie tilted his head to the side and groaned, giving the impression that it was really one of the undead. A few other zombies copied him. Being a vampire's assistant, I was prepared for the worst if it were to occur, and that includes zombie apocalypses. So when the zombies came toward Larten and me and grabbed my arm, I went into defensive mode. They were probably expecting me to scream, then giggle uncontrollably then run away, not for me to haphazardly clock one in the mouth.

"Get the hell off me, hobos!" I barked at them and lashed out. They immediately backed off, except for the one who's jaw I accidentally dislocated. My bad. He stood on mangled-looking legs, and his dislocated jaw made his voice slur when he screamed out in pain and probably called out every curse under the moon. He seemed like a real zombie now!

The other actors got angry with us and began cursing at is, "Get the hell out!" and "Freaking idiots, get out of here!" They began insulting us, and I began to cry, remembering the bullying years ago. The strobe lights and 3D effects were overwhelming me, and we still had a bit of a way to go before we were out of that hell-hole.

Mr. Crepsley heard me scream and he turned his attention to the zombies. At least he was in his right state of mind and was able to get me off of the zombie I was attacking. When I once again came to the realization all of this was an act and calmed down, I wasn't scared about zombies. I was afraid that the actors would form an angry mob and start pillaging small towns trying to find and kill us!

"Jump on," Mr. Crepsley commanded calmly, and despite his vagueness, I understood perfectly. Without a second of hesitation, I jumped on his back, assuming the "piggy back ride" position, as I would often call it, and we flitted out of the haunted house, past crowds of people dressed intricate costumes as ghouls, ghosts, mummies, vampires and the like. We arrived back to our hotel minutes later, where we immediately grabbed our stuff then checked out and left.

"Well," I stated lightly as we made our way down the streets of the nearly deserted city, "That sure was a fun haunted house, wasn't it?"

"It was a waste of time and money," Mr. Crepsley complained.

"Oh, I scoffed, "Come on! You don't mean to tell me you didn't enjoy any of it, do you? You liked some parts! I could hear you laughing!" There was a pause in which I stopped in front of Crepsley and stared at him with a wide grin on my face.

"It was enjoyable at first. When you started to have an anxiety attack is when it began heading south on the 'fun meter'." He stepped around me and continued to walk swiftly down the street.

"Then it wasn't a complete waste of time."

"No, but we could have been doing something more productive, like training," Mr. Crepsley stated.

My face dropped. "You bore me."

"Think of it as a camping trip," Mr. Crepsley said when he realized how reluctant I was to stay in the clearing in the middle of the woods we just recently stumbled upon. "Humans camp for enjoyment, do they not?"

"Some enjoy it," I grumbled sourly and dropped my bag on the ground. I hated the woods more than anything. I hated crypts. I hated any place that didn't have indoor plumbing or hot water that you didn't have to put in a pot and boil over a fire. Any place that didn't have cable, cell phone service and was infested with bugs was _not_ my place.

"I thought you would be used to it by now," Mr. Crepsley frowned. "you have been my assistant for how long now?"

"Two years, one month, three weeks, four days, five hours, forty-one minutes and twenty-seven seconds," I improvised, though I knew at least the first three were correct. "Twenty-eight seconds, twenty nine, thir– ."

"Good job at keeping track of time," Crepsley said sarcastically, and I could tell he was just as upset with me as I was with him for bringing me to this stupid, mosquito infested forest. At least Mr. Crepsley wasn't the only blood-sucker in this forest.

"Save the sarcasm for someone else," I growled. We sat by a fire Mr. Crepsley had put together, for a while, not saying anything to each other, until I decided I was bored and took out my mp3. The songs – for some reason or another – annoyed me that night, so I took the headphones out of my ears and smashed the mp3 player on a rock. That lightened my mood a bit, but then I was sad that I didn't have my music and I grumbled a bit more.

"I'm gonna go find a pointy stick and stab some squirrels now," I said and walked away from the clearing, past a few trees and into the woods.

"What is your problem?" Mr. Crepsley asked me, sounding annoyed.

"I don't friggin' know!" I snapped and turned to face him. "I'm PMSing or something!" Mr. Crepsley's face turned red. Usually, I would laugh at something like this, but right now, I had the intention to kill, and I didn't want to do that. So I did the right thing and stomped off, farther and farther into the woods until I couldn't see my mentor any longer.

I sat on the dirt with my back against a pine tree, taking in deep breaths and trying to calm down. It wasn't working, so I took out my kunai knife that Mr. Crepsley had given to me for my birthday last year and started to carve a stake out of a short, thick branch I found lying around.

I heard a rustle in the leaves of the trees high above me. Weird. I payed no mind at first, because I was sure that it was just a squirrel or something. Until I heard it again. It was weird, it didn't sound like a squirrel. It was much too large. It was probably the size of a man or larger. Who knew what lived in these forests?

I looked up to see that nothing was there. Was I going crazy? I must have been. I went back to making the stake, which I promise you was not going to be used as a weapon against Crepsley, no matter how mad I was at him.

The make-shift weapon was almost complete when I heard a rustling noise again from high up in the treetops. I still didn't know if anything bad was actually afoot, but I didn't want to tempt fate, so I gripped the stake and my kunai knife tightly in my hand until I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore.

"Who's there?" I asked, trying not to sound as frightened as I was, and I assume that I failed, for the mysterious creature jumped down for the treetops and into my field of vision and I probably jumped at least twenty feet in the air. I did not know what was going on at that point, but all I knew was the the animal-monster-beast-thingy was purple, red and green, and I was flippin' scared.

It was tall, a few inches shorter than Larten's height, though, but with a very large build. It zoomed around me at the speed of light, and I couldn't make out what it was, although I wanted to know what it was and what it wanted with me. It was directly behind me, and I knew that when I turned around, it's claws would be buried deep in my flesh or something - if it even had claws. It could have had feathers, for all I knew! - , and that would be the end of me.

At this point, I wasn't thinking very clearly. The thought of what this thing could have been clouded my mind, and I was praying my heart out that this thing wasn't a Vampaneze. I turned around slowly and gasped. It was a Va...

I let a shrill scream escape my lips, and at that very moment, the creature breathed in my face, their hot breath floating in front of me, getting into my open mouth, and I blacked out.

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><p>AN: Whoever can guess what it is first, the next chapter will be dedicated especially to you. Once I get done writing the third draft. ^-^ This chapter was especially long. 6,650 or so words. That's a lot for me. Next chapter will posted sometime in the near future... I don't know yet!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:**_ Guys, I am SOOOOOO sorry for not updating in such a long time. I really am. I've just been busy with other things, like, you know, being grounded from the computer... :D But here is za EPIC CHAPPY for you guys! Whoever guessed vacuum (which no one did, thank God) was CORRECT! Not. If you said a Vancha, then you are an awesome person, and this chapter is dedicated to you, because you were right! It WAS a Vancha! So, as I said in the previous chapter, the winner of this contest-like thing, this chapter would be dedicated to. But, my dilema here is, is that it was a tie between FreakShow, and GakuposVoice. FreakShow said it may have been Vancha, but GakuposVoice said that it definitely was Vancha, so I guess GakuposVoice wins. But FreakShow, I have no idea who you are or anything about you, but I do know that you're pretty awesome because you have been reading this fic from the begining, and you haven't given up hope on me yet! Thank you, FreakShow, and congradulations, GakuposVoice, my dear friend. Flip flip. xD (Filling buckets with pocky and hammers since 1998, sista!) lol_

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten:<strong>

Felicity's POV

I woke up to a slap in the face. Literally. When I woke up, I saw my mentor hovering over me, a serious expression on his face. That's when I finally felt the stinging pain on the left side of my face.

"Ow!" I gasped.

"Are you okay?" Larten asked me hurriedly and hauled me up to my feet. He was worried about me, how sweet! Right after he just slapped me in the face. I think pouring water over my head would have woken me up. Now my face hurt!

"Everything was just dandy until you came around and slapped me in the face," I said, and brushed dirt and dried leaves off my pants. I looked behind the red garbed vampire to see my "attacker" standing with wide eyes, a slightly slacked jaw, and an awkward stance.

I don't know what Larten was so worried for. The thing that attacked me had only been a _Vancha_. Wait, Vancha? Vancha! "Vancha!" I squealed and smiled.

"Greetings."

"," I said, and both men looked perplexed. I snickered to myself.

"Super-cali-fragil-what?" Vancha tried to recite, lips turned up into an amused smirk. He obviously had never seen "Mary Poppins".

Mr. Crepsley was still staring at Vancha with the intention to kill. "Did you hurt her?" he interrogated the green-haired Prince. "Did you do anything to her before I got here? Why did she scream?" He was being very protective over me. Even more weird, he was interrogating someone he had known for decades – centuries, even. It made me wonder...

"I don't know why she frickin' screamed! Take a pill!" Vancha put his hands up to show he was innocent. Mr. Crepsley should have known why it was that I screamed. Vancha didn't even touch me. The only reason I screamed was because Vancha was there. I loved Vancha. He was my favorite character in Cirque Du Freak. (I loved Larten, yes, but lets face it. Vancha's awesome. A disgusting green-haired Prince. No matter how unattractive that sounds, he was still hilarious and very ninja-like. How can you hate a ninja with green hair and a great sense of humor?)

"It's Vancha!" I squealed, the thought setting in my mind. "It's actually Vancha!" I ran over and hugged him. He immediately tensed up, and he looked extremely worried. Eventually, his shoulders relaxed, and we stayed in that awkward position for a few long, dragging seconds.

"Do I know you?" he asked eventually, still with the worried expression on his face. I giggled to myself.  
>The two vampires had no idea why I was acting this way, but honestly, I hadn't the slightest idea why I was <em>letting<em> myself act this way!

"No, you don't, but I know you!" I said in a quizzical manor. Vancha expected nothing different than for me to at least know who he was. Most vampires – or humans that are a vampire's assistant – have heard of and know a bit about the Princes. Although, no assistant would ever attempt to glomp a Prince. I, however, was an exception. Larten had no idea what he was getting himself into by taking me on as his assistant.

"I can see that," Vancha responded and forced a weak smile. "Larten, I suspect that you know her?"

"Yes. She is my student," he said as if he were ashamed of me then sighed and averted his eyes. Gee, why, thank you, Mr. Crepsley, my beloved teacher, friend, and role model, for showing your pride and support of me. Sheesh.

"Alright then, can you please get her off of me or something?" Vancha asked, but I didn't want to stop hugging him.

"My apologies," Mr. Crepsley said to Vancha then yelled at me, "Felicity! Off, now!" I gave in, and put my arms by my sides and slumped my shoulders. I pouted.

"Sorry, Sire," I apologized to the Prince reluctantly.

"It isn't a problem," the Prince said and took my hand and kissed it in greeting. It was as if I hadn't glomped him just a few moments ago. "It's good to meet you," he concluded and let go of my hand, and I blushed.

"Such a formal greeting, Vancha," Mr. Crepsley smirked. "That is very unlike you."

"Maybe," the Prince said and eyed me curiously, a small grin on his face. I think he liked me. I could suppose that was a bad thing, since I was just sixteen years old. I looked a lot older than my actual age for some reason, – some said I looked eighteen – but Vancha was two-hundred-fifty-something years old at this point in time. That's a bit creepy, once you think about it.

"So, Sire," I started, changing the subject, "Why were you stalking me? If it was to feed, that's fine by me. Go right ahead. Larten does it."

"Does he?" Vancha smirked and looked up at my mentor, amused. My mentor's face flushed a deep crimson color, almost the same as his cloak.

"It was only once," Crepsley mumbled, "because we were in the middle of the forest and I had gone into battle with a rather ferocious bear that–"

"Save the story for later," Vancha silenced the younger vampire, then he turned to me. "Are you sure you don't mind that I would feed from you?"

"I really don't care if you drink my blood. It doesn't bother me in the slightest."

Vancha sighed a sigh of relief. "That's good because I did while you were unconscious." Mr. Crepsley stared at him as if he just told him he gave away the stone of blood to the Vampaneze as a Christmas present. "But it's okay! Because she said it was!" Vancha said and put his hands out in front of him as if he expected Larten to attack. Crepsley wasn't convinced and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, at least her blood is bitter. She's not evil, unlike someone I know."

"Do not go there with me, Vancha, or I will make you eat one of your shurikens."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Why were they arguing like children? "Guys! Shut up before I kill you both with your own weapons!" I warned, although I wouldn't really do it. "Now," I added, "I'm bored. Someone entertain me."

"Why do we have to entertain you?" Vancha scoffed.

"Because she broke her mp3 player in a fit of rage," Mr. Crepsley answered. Vancha laughed.

"Now why did you do that?" he chuckled as if he knew what an mp3 player was, which I was fairly certain that he didn't. I didn't want to answer him, but I didn't want to disrespect the Prince. I told him I didn't know why I did it. It was very stupid of me, and now I was bored.

"She did it because she did not want to camp in a forest. Is that not right?" Mr. Crepsley asked me. He had a smirk on his face.

"Stuff it, Creps," I snapped to my mentor, and I already knew I shouldn't snap at him like that because of the fact that he was my guardian, and he basically provided me everything I needed to live. But I was just ticked off because he wouldn't give me anything I wanted, like peace and quiet.

"So you hate the wilderness, aye?" the Wild Prince asked me and I shrugged.

"Well, I don't _hate_ it," I mused, "I just dislike eating in it, sleeping in it, breathing in it, bathing in it, and being in it."

"So you hate the wilderness, aye?" he repeated the question, smirking this time.

"That about sums it up." We laughed.

"We cannot always avoid the woods," my mentor added, slight annoyance in his voice, "unless of course you would like to stay in a crypt. With dead people in it."

"Sure," I smiled. "They're dead. They can't hurt me, unlike the bears and mosquitoes that live in the woods." The way Mr. Crepsley's face dropped then turned into the slightest of evil glares was the undeniable expression that meant, "touché."

"I'll stay in the woods, under one condition," I said, "if Vancha stays with us."

"See that, Larten?" Vancha boasted. "She likes me already. I've still got it." He slicked his hair back with a glob of spit, which I found disgusting and very unattractive.

"You cannot lose something you never possessed, Sire," Crepsley muttered bitterly._ Great. Now he's a mister grumpy pants_, I thought to myself as I moved my foot around in the dirt. But he was right. I don't think Vancha was _ever_ any good with women. He was a hopeless flirt. Maybe I had the slightest crush on him, I will admit, but that was because of the books. The crush still remained, and I was still obsessed with him, although I didn't show any signs of obsession because it would be creepy and stalker-ish if I did.

"Do not try anything, Felicity," my mentor warned.

"Whoa! What do you think I was going to do, Creps? He's like three-hundred years old! That's creepy! I'm only sixteen." I couldn't believe he was saying that!

"Why do you call me that? I find it disrespectful," Mr. Crepsley snapped.

"A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet," I recited a part from "Romeo and Juliet". Of course, I didn't remember what part it was. All I knew was that it was in there. "But you don't smell like a rose," I added, "you smell like crap. Go, bathe somewhere." I waved him away as if he were a fart.

"See," Crepsley turned to Vancha, "This is what I must go through." Vancha laughed as Crepsley walked away, probably to go bathe in the river that was flowing near our camp. He seriously smelled horrible. Not worse than Vancha, of course, for that's probably impossible.

After Crepsley had left, Vancha and I set up camp and talked a bit. We didn't talk about anything really important at first, but then Vancha started asking questions.

"How long have you been Larten's assistant?" he asked as he picked his teeth with his fingernail.

I shrugged. "About two years and a month, I think," I answered.

"Why at such a young age?"

"Are you writing a book or something?" I joked. That was something my dad said a lot when I would ask him a bunch of questions.

"No," Vancha laughed, "I'm just curious."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said plainly, because If I did, I knew I would surely start crying.

"I understand. Well, do you enjoy being Larten's assistant?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "He's a cool guy, but he doesn't understand me all that well. He's not very fun to be around, but overall, we're pretty good friends."

"How good of friends?" Okay, these questions were getting a bit personal.

"Friends, Vancha. Just friends. Why do you care?"

"Oh, no reason..." Vancha lied and looked around. I knew there was a reason.

"Why are you asking, Vancha?" I pressed. I guessed it had something to do with being a Prince, and needing to know about why Larten's assistant was so young, but I had a feeling it went farther than that. "Vancha, tell me now."

"It's classified!" Vancha snapped. There was a long pause after that, in which I looked into the burning flames of the fire we constructed. Vancha looked away. Finally, looking away from me still, he spoke up. "This is awkward," he said. I smiled.

"Yeah."

About ten minutes later, my mentor returned. His hair was wet, and he didn't smell, so I knew he had taken my advise.

"What did you do while I was away?" he asked.

"Talked," Vancha and I answered together.

Mr. Crepsley raised an eyebrow. "How was your chat?" he asked.

"Awkward," we answered simultaneously.

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><p><strong>AN:**_ This was probably the worst chapter in this fiction so far... Depressing, isn't it? Well, I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles, right? Tell me if you want me to continue, because seriously, after this chapter, I don't think I'm capable of writing a good one..._  
><em>And now for something completely different (Monty Python FTW), my birthday is on the 11th (Veteran's day). I'm turning thirteen! YAY! I remember last year *cue flashback* I was so excited for my 12th birthday, but now, I really don't care about birthdays. *shruggs*<em>  
><em>And now for something even more completely different, I watched Paranormal Activity 2 last night, and now I'm afraid of baby cribs, pool cleaners, cabinets, mobiles, basements, frying pans and stairs.<em> _That movie wasn't even that scary. It just makes you jumpy and paranoid. I hid under a StarWars blanket for half the movie. I am pathetic.__ Hope to see y'all again soon! (Since when have I said "y'all?")_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**:_ Hello guys, we meet again! I hope you guys don't hate this chapter, but I will assure you, it will return to normal with time. With that said, enjoy! SarahShan asked an intelligent question in a review! Yay! I love questions! Her question was, "W__hat was the red flash or whatever she saw, since Vancha does not wear red...?" The answer to that is... *drumroll* He has sun burnt skin, remember? So green was his hair, purple was his clothes, and red was his skin. And also, SarahShan, yes, Creps was jealous. Very jealous indeed. I have a question for you all! Is there anyone else on FFnet that reads fanfics using their DSi (if they have one) or DSiXL? I feel like I am the only one..._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven:<strong>

Felicity's POV

The morning came and went quickly. When I awoke at dusk, I almost expected to find that Vancha had left, but when I turned my head and sat up, I saw that Vancha was by a tree, snoring loudly in a deep sleep. Cue cheesy fan-girl smile.

I silently went into the woods to walk around. I never had time to walk around during the day time anymore. I wanted to get a little bit of sun to get rid of the ghostly pale skin I had, but every time I awoke, Mr. Crepsley had some sort of eventful night of training and learning planned out for me.

I looked around, taking in the scenery. The ground was covered in dead leaves, and the trees were bare. It was late Autumn now, and I had the feeling the first snowfall was quickly approaching. It was just a matter of time before there would be a thick sheet of snow covering the ground and I would be freezing my butt off all winter.

Later, when Mr. Crepsley and Vancha were awake, I was in a bad mood, Mr. Crepsley was in a bad mood, and Vancha didn't know what to do with himself.

Mr. Crepsley was trying to lecture me about something or another, but I already knew it, so I wasn't listening.

"Felicity! Are you even listening to me?" Larten snapped.

"Huh? Y-yeah," I stuttered, snapping out of my daze, in which my mind was blank. I loved being able to erase all thoughts from my mind, and drown out peoples' voices with theoretical elevator music.

"Then what did I just say?" Mr. Crepsley crossed his arms over his chest.

"You asked me if I was listening, I lied and said yes, and now you're yelling at me," I answered lightly. This was probably going to get me in a lot of trouble. Crepsley looked like he wanted to hit me, but he would never do that. He had never hit a woman, and I don't think he was ever planning to.

"Do you even want to become a vampire?" Mr. Crepsley asked me after a short pause.

"Duh," I snapped. "Do you think I would abandon my entire family – my whole life – just to wake up at night to see your ugly face?" I paused, then added, "I don't think so."

"Stop acting like an immature human!" Mr. Crepsley yelled at me. He was pointing in my face, and I threatened to bite his finger off by attempting to nip at it.

"I _am_ an immature human!" I shouted in his face. "Maybe I should just go back to my normal stupid human life, or get a different mentor because you are the worst teacher I have ever had. Maybe Vancha wouldn't mind being my mentor."

Vancha stood up. "Guys, I don't want to be part of this argument," he said softly. "If you want, I can go and get some wood for the –"

"Shut up!" Mr. Crepsley and I snapped at the green-haired Prince simultaneously. Vancha's shoulders slumped and he sat again, defeated.

"I demand your respect!" Mr. Crepsley yelled at me.

"I do respect you. You are just no fun to be around."

Crepsley sighed, and I could tell he was getting fed up with my rude comebacks and smart-alec remarks. "Felicity, I am not asking that you worship me," he said, "I am simply asking that you stop talking back and being rude."

"May I interject?" Vancha asked politely, not wanting to offend Larten, but noticing that his situation was futile. Larten nodded and let the Prince speak, which was ironic, because usually Vancha would be the one giving Larten permission to speak.

"Felicity, you should listen to your mentor for once," Vancha told me. "You are not behaving as a vampire would, but as a stuck up child. If you are going to act this way, that's how you should be treated."

"You don't have a say in this!" I snapped at the Prince. He was taken aback by my actions. "You aren't my mentor, and you're not the boss of me!"

"Felicity!" Mr. Crepsley turned red, "do not disrespect a Prince!"

"Stuff it, Crepsley!" I shouted, getting in his a face. I could see that Mr. Crepsley had the urge to slap me across the face, but he wouldn't dare to. "Just leave me alone," I pleaded.

Vancha stared with wide eyes at me. "You're acting like a little Princess," Vancha scolded me, "and I think you should knock it off. I am the Prince here, and I say that you should stop being a little b****, listen to your master, and stop disrespecting him. Do I make myself clear?"

Who did he think he was, yelling at me like that? He had no authority over me. I wasn't a vampire yet, and we weren't on Vampire Mountain. If we were, then maybe I wouldn't say what I said next.

"Gadago tadagoo hedagell," I snarled in Gibberish so they wouldn't understand me and stormed off into the woods to get away from the vampires and let them calm down, while I had all this fury bottled up inside me, with no way to let it out. I kicked a tree, and it made a loud cracking sound, and I was pretty sure that the thin tree was snapped at the truck, while I went unharmed.

Larten's POV

"Was that some sort of voodoo curse, or something?" Vancha asked me, puzzled just as much as I was.

I shook my head. "I have not the slightest of ideas what she just said." I had the feeling it was some sort of insult, for she said it very angrily then stormed off. I found myself wondering where she was going, and I was hoping she was not running away from me. I could not let her do that. It was selfish of me, I know, but I could not let her leave. I did not know why. I just couldn't see her leave my sight for too long.

"I did not appreciate what you did, Vancha," I said sullenly. "You had no right to interfere."

"I'm sorry, Larten," Vancha apologized, "but it is my duty to come here and check on things. Investigate why it was you took her as an assistant so young, and if you were treating her right.

"I had no doubts," he continued, "but now I think I should have thought about it more. You two seem to fight a lot."

I sighed. This would mean she would be taken away from me. "We do," I finally said. "We fight too often. I do not understand it, but Felicity does not either. We do get along, we just hit a rough patch."

"Well," Vancha said. "it seems to me like Felicity is not happy being around you. I seriously hate this job for this reason, but I think you guys should take a break from each other for a while. It's for the best, I think."

"I agree," I nodded, although I did not want her to go. I did not know why, but I wanted her to stay with me. "Could _you_ take her off my hands for a while?" I asked hopefully. "I do not want her to be in the care of a complete stranger."

"Of course," Vancha accepted. "And I won't tell her about why I'm here. I don't think she'd like the concept of me only doing this as a spy mission," he chuckled. I smiled.

"So, are we gonna go find her, or what?" Vancha asked me.

"No," I answered. "She cannot hold a grudge. She will be back to apologize before you know it." The longest she had ever gone being mad with me was twelve hours. I do not think she was capable of staying upset with me, nor was I capable of staying upset with her.

Felicity's POV

Kicking dead leaves off of the earth below me, I came to the realization that I didn't want to remain mad at Crepsley. I also came to the realization that I never called him Mr. Crepsley anymore. Hmm...

I found where we were staying. It would have been more difficult to find them if I didn't have such a good memory. I would never have remembered my way back to camp, because I stormed off with no direction. I hated when I did that.

"Hi," I mumbled and waved to my mentor and Vancha when I found them again. They were sitting in silence, Crepsley sharpening the blades of his knives, and Vancha laying back and looking at the stars. Mr. Crepsley grunted in response, concentrating on his weapon, and Vancha waved back to me and smiled.

"I'm sorry for being so rude earlier," I apologized to both of them. Mr. Crepsley looked up at me, as did Vancha. Vancha was silent, but Larten spoke up.

"I do except your apology, although I do not believe that sorry will cut it this time," Mr. Crepsley said, and I looked at him with an odd expression. He continued before I could say anything. "We argue far too often, and I believe that we need a break from each other, and then we can start fresh."

"O-okay," I said uncertainly, still not really understanding what he was trying to say. "So, you're getting rid of me?" I asked.

"I am not getting rid of you, nor are you getting rid of me. We are merely taking a break from each other. For me to find better ways of teaching, and hopefully, for you to become more tolerant of other people and their... flaws," Mr. Crepsley hesitated at the end. At least he was admitting that he had flaws. I knew a lot of people who would never do that.

I was silent for the next few seconds. "Vancha and I have talked it over, and we have decided that – if you do not disagree – Vancha could be your mentor for the next few months," Crepsley told me. "You did tell me that you wanted him to teach you his ways of fighting."

He was right. I loved Vancha's way of fighting. It was very noble. It was quite impressive too. If I could learn how to fight as well as he did, then I could wow everyone on Vampire Mountain and maybe they would actually accept me for who I was, unlike most people.

It was a great idea, I thought. I will admit, I was taking a liking to Vancha. I wanted him to be my mentor from the very beginning, but if I stayed his assistant for too long, I would miss Crepsley.

Crepsley was right. We needed a break from each other. One of these days, we would end up trying to kill each other in their sleep, and what good would that be? I didn't think I needed to "be more tolerant of others", whatever he meant by that, but I did think that Crepsley needed to find a better way of teaching me things.

I started to wonder how good of a teacher Vancha was. I didn't doubt his abilities, I just wondered.

"That sounds alright to me," I said with a smile.

Crepsley smiled back at me, the turned to Vancha. "She is quite the handful, he said. "She has a nasty temper, and do not get her wet or feed her after midnight."

"I'm not a mogwai, Crepsley," I laughed.

"Yes, but you can be a gremlin." He smiled at me, and I smiled at him. I would miss him once he left. "So, he continued, "I will be on my way. I will see you two in a few months, aye?"

"You're leaving now?" I asked, disappointed.

"Yes," he answered, "but I will be back though. I promise." I was surprised when Crepsley wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I met his embrace. Vancha must have felt left out, because he joined in for a group-hug. We all laughed.

"Well, I must be off!" Crepsley waved. "Behave and do not get into too much trouble while I am away!"

"Okay, Dad!" I joked. Crepsley flitted away without another word with his bag slung over his shoulder. He was never into long goodbyes. I began to miss him, and it almost hurt to watch him leave.

Vancha and I lingered in an uncomfortable silence for quite some time, until Vancha spoke up. "What do you want to do now?" he asked me.

"Uhh... Maybe, like, I don't know... hunt, or something?" I answered awkwardly. Vancha nodded and told me that he was just going to suggest that.

"But you have to kill it. I still hate murdering the poor little animals," I said.

"When you put it that way" Vancha frowned, "you make it seem like a bad thing."

"I think it is a bad thing, Vancha."

Vancha was an excellent hunter. He was completely silent when stalking his prey – a young doe – through the woods. I was trying my hardest to remain quiet, and I did pretty well, but made a few rustling noises here and there. Vancha never scolded me for them, just glared at me evilly. But what could I say? I was a clumsy human living among vampires. This made me look even more clumsy.

Vancha ever used any weapons when hunting – except for his shurikens occasionally, if the situation were to get hairy. He stalked his prey carefully for about a half an hour before he would lunge at it and snap its neck.

He slung our latest kill over his shoulder. It was only a small doe, but it would feed the two of us for the next three days at least.

"Isn't it kind of heavy?" I asked Vancha, noticing that he was walking with the animal as if were as light as a feather.

"Did you want to carry it?" Vancha smirked at me then continued back down the path to our camp without another word.

Vancha didn't want to waste any of the kill. We used almost everything of it, from the fur, to the meat. We cooked and ate most of the meat the first night. Well, I cooked _mine_, anyway. Vancha fancied his meat to be raw. We dried the hide and I used that to keep warm during the freezing nights and days that were to come.

The first snowfall of the winter – or shall I say fall – season came a few days later. It was only late November, but it had gotten very cold. My pathetic human blood mixed with the fact that I couldn't stay warm even if it was seventy degrees Fahrenheit outside wasn't helping me be warm.

Vancha was comfortable though, the cur. The hide was put to good use during the snow storm. It kept me warm for the most part, but I still couldn't fight the shivers that came.

I frequently had to brush snowflakes out of my hair. My teeth were chattering and I had goose bumps all over me that made my skin almost painful, but Vancha had told me that the cold was refreshing for him.

"Give me your hide then!" I snapped, causing Vancha to laugh. He threw me not only his bear skin blanket, but his cape that he had dyed purple. It was amazing that he was able to remain warm. He had nothing but deer hide skirt type thingy around his waist, no shirt, no cape, but he wasn't even shivering! It made me want to scream!

I put the cape around my shoulders and clipped it in the front. I wrapped the bear skin hide around me on the other side, but I was still shivering. I crawled over to where Vancha was sitting, sharpening his shurikens and curled up into a ball next to him and wrapped the hides around me once again, making a cocoon out of the fur. I rested my head on his side.

Vancha put his shurikens down and smirked at me with an eyebrow arched. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm cold," I mumbled, it hard to talk because of my numb lips. My aim was to be adorable so he wouldn't shoo me away, and It seemed to work because he put an arm over my shoulder.

"Feel warmer?" he asked me, holding me close to him.

"Mm hmm," I sighed and closed my eyes, suddenly getting a lot more tired. A few seconds later, I fell onto my side next to my temporary mentor and fell asleep beside him like a loyal puppy.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN:** _So, yeah guys, please, for the love of all that is awesome, please don't form an angry mob and burn my house down. I will see you guys later. In the meantime, review, even if they are complaints. Just remember, it will all be back to normals soon enough._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**_ Houston, we had a problem. But if you are reading this now, that means that that "problem" was resolved, and now you can go back to your regularly scheduled program.  
>Hi guys! I'm back! I finally fixed this problem, and everything is back to normal. Take a deep breath, and enjoy this chapter.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve:<strong>

Felicity POV

I awoke to find that Vancha had left. It was a bit before sunset, about four o' clock in the evening. I guessed that Vancha ran off into the woods to go fight the sun. No doubts that he would return as red as a lobster and feeling defeated, like what usually happened. But he was a trooper, though. He could handle a minor irritation like that.

There was only a thin sheet of white snow on the ground. It was sticky snow though, quite perfect for making snowballs. I planned the perfect ambush for when Vancha would return. I packed snow together to create a perfectly round, smooth snowball. I repeated this process several times until I had a medium sized pile of snowballs ready to launch at the unsuspecting vampire Prince.

It was a good advantage to have sensitive ears for once because if I didn't have them, I would never have heard Vancha coming. When I heard the soft padding of footsteps in the snow I hid in a nearby cluster of trees. With a snowball in each hand, I prepared to commence my attack. It was a simple operation; I was bored and I always wanted to have a snowball fight with a Prince, since about five minutes ago. That made it logical, no doubt.

Vancha turned up a few moments later, and as I suspected he was nearly burnt to a crisp. I had to stifle my laughter when I saw him look in all directions for me. "Felicity?" he called. He stood still in the middle of the clearing, waiting for me to appear as he stroked his beard, in deep thought.

That reminded me of a joke I came up with about Vancha very many years ago... But that wasn't important. The only thing of importance at the moment was my intricate plan, and the snowballs I was about to launch at Vancha's face. Now was my chance!

I took aim and drew my arm back. I shot it forward and released my grip, sending the cold, icy sphere hurdling toward my temporary mentor. The snowball seemed to be held aloft, suspended in the air for mere seconds before it collided with the middle of Vancha's shoulder blades. He spun around quickly and got into a fighting stance. I couldn't help but laugh now. I went into the clearing so Vancha could see me and I laughed hysterically. Once composed, I watched Vancha stand there and look like an idiot. I threw another one at him, but he dodged it.

"Oh," he said and smirked, "it's on now!" At that, our epic battle commenced. Vancha's throws were very difficult to dodge, and very painful when they hit me. I managed to avoid them only a few times, where he dodged my throws just about every time.

"Ow!" Vancha exclaimed as a snowball collided with his shoulder, "Stop! I surrender! I surrender!" We laughed with (at) each other for five minutes continuously, something I could never do with Crepsley. These were the kind of moments I wished I could have with Mr. Crepsley, but he was completely against fun or something like that. He was too serious all the time. His sense of humor was dark, and he didn't understand mine.

"That was fun," Vancha gasped in between fits of laughter. "Wanna do it again?"

"Nah, I'm cold," I answered. "Do you know where we are headed to next? This place is getting boring." He shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "I'll leave it up to you to decide."

"Somewhere warm!" I insisted, and Vancha laughed. "Maybe Tahiti?"

"Great idea!"

^ – ^

Everything was as dark as pitch. That was one of the many reasons why I hated crypts so much. Another is that they smell of decaying bodies. That, mixed with Vancha's stench of sweat, blood, dirt, and wet animal fur made it nearly unbearable.

It had been a few weeks since Vancha had become my temporary mentor. It was all fun and games at first, and it was nice while it lasted. Let's just say that Vancha didn't remain Mr. Nice-Guy for long. Every time I would call him Vancha instead of Sire March, he would swat me over the head. That was something Mr. Crepsley would never have done to me. I guess Vancha wasn't as soft.

Not only did he hurt me, but he also yelled at me a lot too. Most of the time, I didn't know why I was being yelled at; why he was taking it to such an extreme as to where he would yell at me for any minor thing I would – or wouldn't – do. So I would yell back at him. I took crap from _no one_.

Apparently, this wasn't the right route to take with Vancha, as it would earn me more physical abuse and – as it's plain to see – I really didn't enjoy that very much. It lead to fighting and arguing, and the last thing I wanted to do was scrap with Vancha, because I knew I would get my butt kicked. I already had a long scar running down my left arm and left side from when I decided to fight back one time. I would never make that mistake again, that's all I'm gonna say about that.

It wasn't all we ever did though, was fight. We managed to joke around – more often than I did with Crepsley, in fact – and the only time Vancha would hurt me – emotionally or physically – is when I was in one of my moods and was feeling tough and talked back.

I learned my lesson quick. I couldn't talk back to Vancha. I had to bite my tongue, or Vancha would threaten to cut it off. I was getting the message. I wasn't _that_ stubborn and thick-headed. I tried my best not to talk back, really, I did, it was just that when I was younger, I was always used to speaking my mind and following my own rules. It was all I ever knew. But now I knew better.

Vancha was very patient and persistent when it came to teaching me lessons. He would chastise or scold me only when I mouthed off, which I did less and less often now-a-days. I didn't want to face Vancha's eternal wrath. Now and then it was okay to argue with him, or as I so cleverly masked it as: a debate. He was a good person to have a heated debate with, because I knew I was bound to win.

"Is there a difference between different blood types?" I asked "Sire March" during one of our lessons. I wanted to know if there was a distinct taste, or a possibility that a vampire could be allergic to certain types of blood.

"There ain't really any difference," he grunted, "Blood is blood. It's all the same to me. Although, there _is_ something different about O positive, which is it's taste. It tastes a bit different, although it's hard to describe. You have O positive."

"You would know," I grumbled, not meaning to.

"Watch yourself," Vancha warned, pointing a finger at me.

"Sorry, Sire," I apologized.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Vancha joked, "basically all of the blood types are the same, except for O positive."

"Is there any other way to tell?" I asked.

Vancha thought for a moment. "Yes, he finally said, "if you look at their medical records."

"Awesome," I smiled. "Now, can we wrap this up? I've got an appointment with a few animal hides, and something soft I can use for a pillow." I began to rise, but I was stopped when I was forced to sit down again by Vancha.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snapped. "Did you honestly think I was going to let you skip today's lessons?"

"Well," I started, " honestly, no, but I was hoping you'd let it slide this time. I work too hard for the rest I'm allotted! I'm wicked tired, and I need some sleep!"

Vancha stood. "I will tell you when you can go to sleep, and that is when the sun rises," he said kindly, yet firmly. "Am I clear?" he concluded.

"Like crystal."

Then next few hours were filled with training exercise, after training exercise, after training exercise. The whole remainder of the night was eventful, but I did nothing I wanted to do. It was completely consumed by sparring with Sire March until the sun popped up over the horizon. I stared at the beautiful sunrise, completely zoning out everything around me except for the brilliant shades of blue, purple, pink, and orange illuminating the blanket of glistening white snow that covered the ground, the trees and everything in between.

Snapping me out of my daze, Vancha made the first move in our battle that was supposed to start and lunged at me. I swore loudly as I crashed to the ground. The force of the landing caused the side of my jeans to tear, and my exposed skin dragged against the ground, leaving a bad scrape.

Imagine this: A heavy weight wrestling champion grabs you by the collar of your shirt and throws you down a paved road, using you as his own personal bowling ball. That sounds painful, right? Yeah, it does. It is.

I quickly sprang to my feet. I looked at the scrape and hissed. "Ah," I winced, "I'm... I-I'm okay." As soon as I saw the blood was when I felt the pain. My breathed hitched. It was bleeding rather badly and felt as if the side of my leg had been rubbed a thousand times over with rough sandpaper. I gasped. "I-I'm bleeding, you freaking idiot!"

"Watch what you say to me, girl!" Vancha ordered.

I ignored him. "Why would you even do that! You saw that I wasn't paying attention! Are you that much of a lowlife where you have to shove girls hundreds of years younger than you to the ground? Is that how low you've sunk, Vancha?

"I'm tired of you hurting me! When will it end? I know you're only trying to help me, but what are you really accomplishing through violence? It may solve all of your problems, but not the problems I have with my short attention span.

"The sun rose, and I'm going inside. You can stay out here to burn, for all I care."

"If you're gonna tell me to do something," Vancha called as I walked away from him "you better mean it because I'll do it!" I stuck up my middle finger at him and with that last harsh gesture that I didn't even mean to muster, I stormed off back to the crypt. I sat in there for three long hours, crying and feeling depressed. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I tried to sing a happy song, which didn't work, so I resorted to singing "Beautiful" by Eminem, a sad and depressing song. Woohoo. Depression. At around ten in the morning, I came to my senses; I wasn't mad anymore. I was acting like a foolish child. I realized I did that a lot.

"Sire?" I called. I looked around. Behind the many ancient granite gravestones was a small stretch of woods, particularly pine trees. I figured Vancha would be there, hiding from the rays of the sun behind a tree, or something. When I found him he was sitting up, using a tree for support, next to the clearing. His skin was bright, bright red and he was panting as if he had just flitted around the world. Twice.

"Sire?" I ran over to him. I looked at his face. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was in agony. "Sire! Are you okay?"

"Uh uh," Vancha grunted. "I-I'm not o–" He passed out. Panicking, I slapped his face, not too hard, but just hard enough to wake him up. Vancha hissed. "Why'd you do that!"

"I need to take you back to the crypt," I demanded. "Come on, stand up, Vancha." I helped him to his feet with much struggle. With every movement, he winced. "You are an idiot, Vancha! I didn't really want you to burn out here!"

"That's what you said, though," Vancha tried to say. I shook my head. Arriving in the crypt, I set Vancha down. The crypt was very cold, so it was probably nice on Vancha's skin.

"Stay here," I said to Vancha.

"As if I would go anywhere," he retorted. Ignoring that, I went into the graveyard and got a big clump of snow and ice. I brought it back inside and applied a fistful of snow to Vancha's red skin. Vancha sighed as the snow completely melted within four seconds. His skin was on fire.

"Are you alright?" I asked him as I covered his arms, legs, and chest with the cold snow, although I already knew he was in pain. So much pain he could barely move.

"It's just a little burn," Vancha responded with a grunt. "I'll be okay in less than a week."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "How long were you standing out there?"

"Well," Vancha mused, "I was in the sun for about two hours - a personal record. Then I found myself growing weak, and in pain, so I sat in the shade for a while."

I sighed. "I am such an idiot. If only I had more brains to think the situation through before I told you to go sit in the sun and risk dying, just 'cause I was pissed off. I'm sorry."

"Apology excepted," Vancha smiled triumphantly. "And it only took for me to get a horrible sunburn for you to figure out that you were being frickin' stupid. Good job; you passed the test."

"The... test? What test?" I asked, almost angrily.

"Yeah. This was mostly a test. I wanted to see if you would own up to you're mistakes. That's why I am your mentor now, actually. And, in all honesty, I hate hurting you, But I think it is helping you."

"Helping me? With what? Y' know what, it doesn't matter right now. I'm gonna tie you up and throw you back into the sun for the rest of the day if you don't tell me who put you up to spying on me." I took the snow off his skin.

Vancha grimaced. "Don't stop," he whined and grabbed my arms and put my cold hands and the snow back on his shoulders. "I heard that Larten got an assistant. I wanted to see what you were made of, and so did the other Princes. I sent a telepathic message to Larten, and he said that you would like to meet me the most, and here I am! Sun burnt beyond recognition, and in so much pain I could die right now, but at least I know you mean well and you'll make a good vampire one day.

"Anyway, I'm getting weak. I need blood, and I'm in no shape to go hunting right now. Do you mind if I...?" Vancha pointed to my shoulder. He didn't even have to finish his sentence; I knew what he meant.

"Alright, but just this once," I agreed reluctantly. I moved over to him and pulled my sleeve up to my shoulder. He made a small incision, and with much struggle, he inched toward the cut he made. He wrapped his lips around the cut and sucked a bit of blood from my arm. It didn't hurt as much as I was expecting it too, but the intimate position we were in was awkward and unsettling.

"That was awkward," I stated plainly, expecting the vampire to agree.

"It was?" Vancha asked. "Sorry about that. Gotta do what you gotta do, though, right?" Well, he sure took that lightly. I nodded in agreement.

"So, are you gonna make it?" I asked.

He replied, "If we stay here a few more days, I think I can recover quick." He tried to sit up, and winced. "Ah, I really should have thought this through more."

"Yeah, probably."

^ – ^

A week later, sitting on the cold crypt floor with my legs crossed, I hummed the tune to "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane as I tossed random ingredients into a pot to make stew for myself. Vancha didn't care much for cooked food; he was gnawing away at a piece of raw deer meat. I offered to make him something, but, as usual, he refused. He had always been a man to stick to his ways, how ever disgusting they were.

We didn't have many different ingredient – we only had leftover deer meat and rotting cabbage and tomatoes we stole from a farm – to use to make food, and of course, Vancha had it easy; he didn't even have to cook anything. Humans were cursed with the disadvantage of not being able to eat raw meat without getting sick. Stupid parasites.

"All these songs," Vancha said as I was humming, "how do you remember them?" He chewed of another chunk of deer meat.

I pondered that. "I dunno," I admitted, putting another piece of meat in the pot. "I just do."

He paused. "You're birthday is coming up soon, right?" he changed the subject, taking another bite of the bloody meat that made me feel like I was going to throw up.

"Yeah," I answered, "December seventeenth. Why do you ask?"

"That's none of your business," Vancha said pompously. After he finished his food, he got up, went to the entrance of the crypt, peered around, came back to where he was previously and sat down again. "It's warm outside," he stated.

"No it isn't!" I argued. "It like a billion degrees below zero out there."

"Now you're just exaggerating," he smirked. "You need to toughen up; it's gonna be bloody January soon, and you're gonna freeze your scrawny self to death if you don't get used to the cold. Now, take off your jacket and go play in the snow."

"Firstly," I started, defending myself, "sixteen year olds don't _play_ in the snow, secondly, I'm not scrawny, thirdly, this is a pullover, not a jacket. Fourthly, I am a human and cannot 'play' in the snow without a jacket and still avoid hypothermia or pneumonia. Five, you're damn right I am exaggerating, and last, but not least, fact number six," I held up six fingers, "I'm not wearing a shirt under this."

Vancha sighed heavily. "You irk me." He rubbed his face with both his hands. "I officially give up trying to compete with you." He lay back and remained in that position for a while before he rolled over to his side and fell asleep.

^ – ^

"Yo! Felicity, wake up!" Vancha nudged me with his foot. "Wake up!" He sighed. "Wakey wakey, rise and shine?"

"Boo!" I yelled and shot up, scaring the vampire half to death. He jumped a foot in the air. I snickered to myself. I was awake the whole time I was just waiting for the right time to jump up and scare the crap outta him. Mission accomplished. (Not literally, thank God!)

"You little...! Come here!" Vancha yelled playfully and came toward me. I scrambled to my feet and bolted to the other side of the small crypt. He caught me by the waist and gave me a noogie.

"Stop! Stop!" I laughed and he put me down. When I was safely planted on the ground, I asked, "So, what are we doing today?" I felt strangely alert for someone who woke up not even thirty minutes ago.

"Well, as of right now," Vancha said as he looked at his imaginary wrist watch, "we are going to some random town in some random country in the middle of nowhere and staying in some building. I dunno yet."

"Coolio," I said joyfully. "Are we leaving now?"

"Yep."

"Double coolio."

After a few hours, we came upon a small town. It was not very busy, but you could see the odd person or two roaming around the street. Almost as soon as the sun rose, right on cue, Vancha and I broke into a building – an abandoned library, probably ready to be torn down. The building's condition wasn't that bad though, but I would have preferred to stay in a place rated with more stars, like maybe two, instead of negative one billion. Well, beggars can't be choosers.

"You're birthday is in three days," Vancha said plainly after we got settled into the library. Settled in for me was wrapped in a cocoon of animal hides, sitting in a corner, shivering. It was very dark in the library, even though by this time, the sun had rose.

"Yeah," I answered, "I'm turning seventeen, can you believe that?" I smiled. "I'm practically an adult now!"

"That you are," Vancha said lightly, then changed the subject. "Larten will be around to collect you soon."

"Collect me?" I asked quizzically. I felt like saying after that, "Who still says that?" but I refrained, and instead I asked, "When do you think he'll be by? I like staying with you." I smiled.

Vancha smiled back and lay a hand on my shoulder. "We had fun, but nothing lasts forever. Plus, I think Larten would start to miss you, if you stayed with me forever. Lesson here is, I can't always be your mentor." To be cheesy and sentimental, he added, "But, I can always be your friend." He ruffled my hair and grinned.

I laughed.

There wasn't many sources of light in this library beside the windows, but I didn't want to open the shades to use their resources, in fear someone would see me and have Vancha and I evicted from the library, so it was rather dark. I couldn't read a word of any of the books on any of the shelves, and by the time Vancha fell asleep, I was left to be by myself, feeling very bored and rather lonely.

I paced around the deserted library for ten minutes; they were the most agonizing ten minutes of my life. There were books upon books – thousands of them – surrounding me, an abundance of amazing titles for me to choose from, but I couldn't read a word of any of them. Darn you, human eyes!

Way into the day, I decided to look around the place for a while. Using the small amount of light the cracks on the boards on the windows would allow, I was able to read a few of the titles of the books. One of them was Twilight. I hissed at it and threw it at the floor. Then I thought, _well, this sure could come in handy for torturing Vancha in the future. _

Officially bored out of my mind, I looked over at he boarded-over windows. Through the cracks, I could see it was still only noon. I groaned. Six more hours until Vancha would be waking up. I decided that because I had so much remaining free-time, I would leave the library for a while in search of an adventure. I would go shopping.

The town was bursting with life and activity in the day; not at all what it was like the night we first arrived there. I looked down as I walked down the sidewalk. I could have sworn that everyone was staring at me, but more specifically at my far outdated clothes, my scraggly, greasy hair, my ruined converse sneakers, my ghostly pale skin, and just about everything else about my appearance. I didn't fit in with the crowd of people I was living among, so, yeah. Nothing has really changed since three years ago.

I shoved my hands in my pant's pockets. I felt the roughness of the paper money in my pockets. I had a hundred fifty dollars with me. According to ,y standards, that was a lot of money. Vancha had stolen a bit of cash every time that he went off to feed. I told him it was wrong, but he would usually respond with something like, "But if I don't steal, you don't get money for clothes and food. Then you'd die."

The first store I found was Walmart. Thank the gods for Walmart! I combed the entire store for clothes that I liked but still fit me. It was like being sent of a fool's errand. It was awkward for me to look for clothes because I didn't know what the style was at that time. Instead of wasting my precious time staring at passer-by's clothes, trying to figure out the best things to wear, I just picked out things that I liked, even if they weren't in style. Fashion means nothing to a group of vampires, anyway.

I acquired a heavy purple, black and white plaid trench-coat type thing, a black long sleeved button-up shirt, as well as a red one, two pairs of dark colored skinny jeans and a pair of blue skinny jeans. I also got other necessities I don't wish to go into details on.

Luckily for me, there was a hair studio in this particular store. I was hoping that they weren't too overpriced for trims, because I desperately needed one. As I pondered whether or not to get a haircut, I went to the Asian food section (isle five!) and bought four boxes of chocolate flavored pocky, and two boxes of coffee flavored pocky. When I checked out, I was delighted to find that I had only had to pay fifty dollars out of the one-hundred-fifty dollars I had. I did not know how on earth I managed that. I was sure I would have enough money to pay for a haircut now.

"I just want it trimmed," I said to the hair-dresser, Lynn, who would be cutting my hair today. If this was just a Walmart quality haircut, I wondered how good it would be. But since I hadn't many other options, I thought to myself, _tough_.

"I'm gonna have to wash your hair before I cut it," Lynn told me. "Is that alright with you?"

"Of course," I said. She led me over to a seat in which there was a sink. There was six shelves, all of them with an array of shampoos and conditioners. I sat down in the seat, and she began to wash my hair. It was nice to not have to do something myself for once. And, as a plus, the shampoo she used smelled really good. Like... pomegranates.

When she was finished, I felt all nice and clean. It was a nice feeling. She then led me back to where we were before. There, she cut a half of an inch off my hair, and the end result was enjoyable. "Y'know," Lynn said, "your hair would look really cool if it had colored streaks through it," she smiled at me.

"How much does that cost?" I asked skeptically.

"Because you got a twenty dollar haircut, you get color for only fifteen dollars," Lynn told me. I must admit, it seemed pretty convincing.

"Ooh, a discount," I smiled. "I'm in."

"Alright!" Lynn said cheerfully. "What color do you want?" She showed me all the colors available on a little shelf. There was white, neon yellow, neon orange, bright red, dark red, lime green, dark green, light pink, hot pink, baby blue, blue, dark blue, bright purple, dark purple, and, last but not least, jet black.

"Dark purple," I requested. "But only a few streaks. If Crepsley sees my entire head dyed purple, he'll have a fit. He'd probably kill me."

"This _Crepsley _person," Lynn stated after she started applying the dye to my hair, "is he your dad?"

"Oh, no," I laughed. "He's more like a friend who bosses me around and annoys the crap outta me sometimes. He's old enough to be my dad, though." Great, great, great, great, great, great, great granddad actually. Isn't that insane!

"Is he single?" was Lynn's only question after that. I looked up at her face. I thought she was kidding at first, but her expression said otherwise. She was completely serious.

"In all honesty," I started, "I have no idea. But if I had to guess, I would say yes." There was a hopeful gleam in her eye, and she was about to say something, so I interrupted with, "But you can't have him." She merely shrugged after that and looked disappointed for a few seconds before she was over it, smiled, then continued with my hair. She didn't seem very moved by it, like she was used to that kind of stuff happening to her.

When she was about halfway done, my phone rang. _The phone, the phone is ringing. The phone, we'll be right there. There's an animal in trouble, there's an animal in trou–_

I scrambled for my phone and pulled it out of my pocket. "Oh, it's Vancha," I said, thinking out loud. I pressed the talk button. "Yellow?" I answered. I got Vancha a phone not too long after we came to this library, so we could communicate, since most humans - including myself - can't communicate telepathically with vampires. I put the phone on speaker so that Lynn could continue with her work.

"Yo," Vancha answered back. "Where are you?" He sounded worried.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked. "The sun hasn't risen yet."

"Classified information," Vancha responded. "And don't answer my question with a question. Really, where are you?"

"Do you miss me already?" I joked.

"Felicity!"

"I'm on the moon, Vancha."

"You better not be. Come down from there!" Vancha joked.

"Don't worry about me Vancha. I'll be home in like, soon," I promised.

"Don't go getting arrested," Vancha said.

"I'll be back at the library within the hour. Kay, thanks, love ya, peace out." I hung up and put the phone back into my coat pocket. It had always been a habit of mine to say, "Kay, love ya, bye" (or something similar) to people I knew well when I hung up the phone. I'm sure I'm not alone on that.

"Sorry about that," I apologized to Lynn. "He likes to get on my nerves. I love him to death, but he can be annoying."

"It's no problem. My boyfriend used to do that, too," Lynn mentioned as she applied color to a piece of hair in the back of my head.

"Boyfriend? Oh, he's... He's n-not my _boyfriend_, just my f-friend," I stuttered, although I desperately wanted to tell her that I had a major crush on him and he was being an ignorant idiot.

"Sorry," she said lightly, "but it sounds like you're in denial." When I tried to argue with her, she gave a sharp tug on my hair. After fifteen minutes, my hair was washed and trimmed and all colorful, she concluded, "And... Finished."

I looked at myself in the mirror, and the streaks in my hair looked pretty darn cool. "Vancha's gonna like this." I turned my head to see the side. My hair now looked neat and proper. Well, maybe not proper because with my hair styled like this, I looked like a rebellious teenager, which in fact I kinda was. "Do you, by any chance, have a bottle of bright green hair dye that I can buy?" I asked Lynn, so I could get some for Vancha.

"Sure. How much of it do you need?"

"Not a lot. Vancha has short hair." She handed me a bottle of bright green hair dye. It matched Vancha's hair color perfectly. "Thanks. Vancha's gonna love me for this."

"Have a good one," Lynn said kindly and waved me goodbye. I happily wished her a good day as well as I left the hair studio.

"Well that's fifty dollars out of my pocket," I grumbled as I walked through Walmart, going toward the exit. I looked down at my feet. Crap, I still only had my worn out, old converse sneakers. I didn't want to go back into Walmart, though. I had just spent a good portion of the day in there, and I didn't feel like going back in.

I gazed around, trying to find another place to go. Luckily, there were other stores in the Walmart complex, if you would like me to call it that. One of which was Payless. I ran over to it and went inside. The first pair of boots I saw, I instantly fell in love with. They were knee-length, dark brown leather boots with a zipper running down the outsides of them. There was a buckle in the front of each of them, although it didn't serve a purpose. They had two-inch tall heals and they were so epically amazing, I needed to get to get them.

I took a closer look at them. They were the last pair, just my size, and when I looked at the price-tag, I came to find out that they were only forty-five dollars. That cheap for boots this epically amazing? I tried them on, half expecting them to be uncomfortable. Long story short, they definitely weren't. They were the most comfortable boots, no, _footwear_, I had ever wore in my entire life.

The lady at the front desk rang them up. She then told me that they were put on the wrong rack, and that they should have been on the one for clearance; they were only thirty-five dollars! Amazing! I asked her if there was a bathroom right after I paid for the boots.

"Down that hall right there, and the first door on the right."

"Thank you," I nodded kindly and went into the direction of the bathroom. It was a small facility, but it wasn't bad. I quickly got changed into my new clothes that I bought. I also put on the boots. I glanced in the mirror for a few seconds, realizing that the snug clothes looked rather good on my small figure. I put on the trench coat to see what I looked like in it. I looked good, it was warm, and it was very comfy as well.

Leaving that shop, another store in that complex caught my eye. The name of the store evades me for the moment, but it was a small boutique specifically for clothes and make up. Inside, there were numerous shelves filled with all kinds of make-up – any shade I could have asked for, they had. There was eye-liner, eye-shadow, lip-gloss, lip-stick, mascara, and the like. Just for the heck of it, I bought one thing of black liquid eye-liner, one eye-shadow case with dark purple, light purple, a few shades of gray and black, and black mascara. That came out to be fourteen dollars. All the money I had left. Then, I was broke.

In the bathroom, I applied some makeup, more specifically, the two shades of purple eye-shadow, then black eye-liner, then the mascara. I was pleased with the final outcome of my face. As I left, bags in hand, I realized that I was hungry. The pocky I bought wouldn't satisfy my hunger, and I wanted to save some for Vancha. I didn't have any money left at this point, so I couldn't buy anything to fill my empty stomach. I needed to go to McDonald's or something but I didn't have the money. So depressing.

So there I walked, the hollow shell of a girl, withering away before my very eyes, until, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of green was seen. I looked down. There it was. A crisp, green twenty dollar bill. Warily, I picked it up, half expecting it to vanish into thin air. Luckily for me, it didn't. Twenty dollars richer!

I found the nearest subway, ran inside, ordered turkey and pickles on white bread and a got two bottles of Mountain Dew. After eating the sub, I trudged through high piles of snow with the unopened bottle of Mountain Dew and the numerous shopping bags until I reached the library thirty minutes later. The sun had gone down, but the light of the moon was a good enough guide to get me inside.

"Yo," I greeted Vancha, who was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Want some Mountain Dew?" I held the Mountain Dew out so he could see it.

"That sounds very unappetizing!" Vancha exclaimed, and when he saw me, he said, "Woah! Nice hair."

"You like it?" I asked self-consciously. I flattened down my hair that seemed to have been spiky in the back for some reason.

"I do. It looks good. When did you get it done?" he asked.

"A woman named Lynn was doing my hair when I was on the phone with you," I replied. "It cost all the money I had.

"Oh well. Gotta do what you gotta do, right?" Vancha said lightly.

"Yeah. Want some pocky and mountain dew?" I offered.

"Sure," he said, even though he didn't know what either of those things were. We spent the remainder of the night eating pocky and drinking a bottle of soda. The night seemed to last forever, since it was so uneventful. Vancha decided to tell me a story about when he was my age, and eventually, I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

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><p>AN: This chapter was long and extremely time consuming to edit (it took two days!). That's all I'm gonna say about that.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Hey guys! Happy Turkey Day! I hope you all have a great day full of thanking and... giving.. AND TURKEY! 'Tis the season for food! So I hope you all have a great holiday, and do enjoy this chapter. :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen:<strong>

Felicity's POV 

_"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me._ _Happy birthday dear Felicity, happy birthday to me," _I sang glumly as I cooked a PopTart carefully over the fire. This wasn't the first time that I spent my birthday alone, depressed or both. I raised the Poptart to my face and blew on it, then when it was cooled down enough I took a bite.

Today was bad day for Vancha to pick for his I'm-going-to-be-a-reckless-idiot-and-leave-Felicity-to-fend-for-herself day. Now I had to spend this special occasion, December seventeenth, my seventeenth birthday, _alone_. I can only turn seventeen on the seventeenth once, people, and now I had to spend it all by myself. What a shame that was.

I wondered where Vancha had wandered off to. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he didn't go to fight the sun again. He had just recovered from that burn a week earlier, and I had the feeling he didn't want to relive that. I know that I wouldn't.

I was so bored at this point, and all I wanted was my piano. Singing without an instrument to play for background music was very mundane. _Pretending_ to play the magical eighty-eight keyed musical miracle machine didn't help either, for it made me feel – and without a doubt, look – like an idiot. Now I realized, that I would have to get over myself and learn not to need a piano. No musical instruments for me. Why does life suck so much?

To pass time, I took my journal out of my bag and opened it up to the next clean page and began writing. I had four journals in my bag; all of which were filled with Cirque Du Freak fan fiction (guilty pleasure) and stories about my own life, much like a diary, but told more like a story. Sometimes, my work wasn't that good. My older work was catastrophic, but my newer work was better, but still, probably not very good.

Nobody was allowed to read anything I wrote, with the exception of a few nosy teachers who demanded I turn in my writing assignments. None of my family members or friends knew about my writing, never mind my obsession with it. I used to purposefully hide my notebooks among normal books on my bookshelves because I knew that no one in my family would go snooping around a_ bookshelf_.

The story I was writing now was a story about my life. Unlike Darren Shan, though, I changed none of the names in my book, not even my own. The title of this book would soon be, "The Horrible Life of Felicity Taylor."

I managed to write sixteen pages in another story before Vancha returned. "Yo," I heard him say. I immediately snapped the colorful notebook shut then shoved it into my bag. I looked up at him with a distant expression. If I had been the one watching this, I would think that I was a government spy, on crack, who had the secrets to end the world.

Vancha was standing in front of me awkwardly holding an acoustic guitar in his right hand. The guitar had no designs on it, and it was very simple. Without any emotion, he thrust the instrument in my face. "Play," he demanded. Warily, like the guitar was a ticking time-bomb, I took the guitar from him. "Happy birthday," he concluded with a smile.

"Vancha!" I gasped. I got up and gave the green-haired vampire a big hug. "This is awesome, thanks! Honestly, I thought you forgot all about today."

"Forgot! How could I do that? You only turn seventeen on the seventeenth once right?" he said and pulled away.

I smiled warmly. "Yeah. Thank you so much for the guitar, but I don't know how to play it."

"Oh," Vancha frowned. "Well that changes things a bit." His shoulders sagged. "That was a waste of five-hundred-fifty dollars."

"You payed that much for this thing!" I shouted. "Vancha, you didn't have to do that. You could have gotten something for yourself."

"Like I have any use for money," Vancha scoffed. I nodded in agreement. "Well, you play piano, right? How different can the two be?" In response to this, I strummed the guitar and got a nice sound out of it.

"At least you can get a decent sound out of one of those things," Vancha said, sounding upset.

"I don't know how," I said. "I've never picked up a guitar a day in my life before this." After a pause, I asked, "Did the guitar come with some sort of guide?"

"Yeah," Vancha said and thrust a piece of small, white paper in my face. "Here."

"Vancha, that's the receipt," I said plainly. Grumbling to himself, he crumpled up the paper then found another one that was actually the guitar "how-to" type thing. This would come in handy.

I spent the next few hours looking through the manual, trying to figure out how to play. At first, I sounded horrible and had no idea what all the notes were and where. After four hours of studying the booklet, I finally got the hang of it a little bit and I managed to teach myself how to play a song. The song was "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane.

"I walked across an empty land

I knew that pathway like the back of my hand

I felt the Earth beneath my feet

Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree

I felt the branches of it looking at me

Is this the place we used to love?

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go?

Talk about it somewhere only we know?

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

So tell me when you're gonna let me in

I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go?

Talk about it somewhere only we know

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go? So why don't we go?

Oh, this could be the end of everything

So why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know?"

"What'ya think?" I asked Vancha once I was finished with the song.

"You've really improved in the last... few hours. Really, how did you learn how to play that song so fast?"

"I really don't know," I said honestly, "but it was this same was when I took up piano. I learned piano in only a two days; I mastered it in a week. Pretty weird, right?"

"Maybe you have musical super powers," Vancha suggested. We laughed. After practicing with the guitar for a little bit longer, the sun began to rise, and I began to feel drowsy. Before we knew it, Vancha and I had fallen asleep.

After this, days passed; uneventful. Vancha and I sparred at least once a day for a few hours as practice and training. It was great exercise. It had also taught me discipline, which I had my fair-share in since training with Vancha.

Almost every time the two of us would spar, he would win, although there were a few times when my utter relentlessness paid off and the battle would go to me. Vancha was amazed with my improvement in my fighting. I was too. I was thrilled, but I don't know if Vancha was. This would just mean that I had the potential to kick his butt one day.

When I woke up in the morning and went into the lobby of the forgotten library, the most wonderful sight met my sleepy eyes: Vancha was talking to a familiar voice I knew so well, although my sleepiness was making it hard for me to think today, so I couldn't put a face to the voice. As soon as I took another step and saw their face clearer, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Mr. Crepsley!" I squealed and unintentionally jumped in the air. I ran over to him quickly and smiled widely as I wrapped my arms around the orange-haired vampire. Much to my joy, he hugged back. "I missed you, so much," I said into his shoulder. In the moment, I had forgotten how disheveled I must have looked. My short purple and black hair resembled a birds' nest this morning, my face was dirty, my breath probably smelled, and I was wearing tattered pajamas; not the most attractive getup. I bet I looked like a hobo.

When I pulled away from the embrace, I saw that Mr. Crepsley was smiling down at me. He didn't care what I looked like, just that I was there. "I missed you, as well," he said. "What did you do to your hair?" he asked with a smirk and ran a hand through it quickly.

I swatted his hand away playfully. "As much as I am overjoyed to see you again, I must get dressed and all that jazz, so if you'd excuse me..."

"Go ahead," Mr. Crepsley said politely and moved to the side and put out a hand as if to lead me on my way. I gave a mock curtsy. I went into the bathroom and continued with the normal spin of things: got the barrel of rain water and washed up a little bit, brushed and styled my hair, brushed my teeth quickly, then put on some nice clothes and makeup, like I normally would. Today I wore a red long sleeve v-neck because I new that red was his favorite color. I wore a gray zip-up hoodie over it. I got the small, black, hoop earrings I found the last time I went shopping out of my bag and put them in. Luckily, the library's bathroom had a mirror in it, so I was able to examine my face. Not perfection – too many zits – but good enough.

When I exited the bathroom and made my way back to the lobby, I saw Mr. Crepsley and Vancha waiting there for me.

"Nice shirt," Larten complimented when he saw me. I smiled. I scanned the room and realized that Vancha wasn't there. He was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Vancha?" I asked quickly, a concerned look on my face.

"He left," Mr. Crepsley said. "He is not much into goodbyes. But I can guarantee that you will see him again soon."

"Wait here," I commanded. With that, I ran toward the exit of the library in search for the purple garbed Prince. I found him standing a few meters away from the door. "Hey, ugly!" I shouted at him. "You never said goodbye to me!"

"Gottcha!" he shouted and pointed a finger at me, mockingly as he walked over to me.

"Oh, you jerk," I laughed and gave him a hug. Right at that moment is when Mr. Crepsley walked out the door, looking for me.

Mr. Crepsley cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ahem, uh, Felicity?" he sniffed.

I let go of Vancha. "Yes," I sighed, annoyed.

"Nothing."

I rolled my eyes. "Bye, Sire," I said, smiling. "I'll see you soon, right?"

"Aye. It's been fun." He smiled warmly at me. "Oh, and just call me Vancha." Then he turned and left. I was sad to see him go. I was just as sad to see him go as I was to see Mr. Crepsley go that time a few months ago. I sensed a pattern here. He waved from behind him.

When we were situated in the library again, it was, in a word, awkward. I grabbed my guitar, figuring that it would be a good conversation starter. I lifted it into the "guitar-playing position", as I liked to call it and began to play "Somewhere Only We Know" because it was the only song I knew how to play.

"When did you get that?" Mr. Crepsley asked me. "I did not know that you knew how to play guitar."

"Vancha got it for me for my birthday."

"This was a birthday gift? From _Vancha_?" Mr. Crepsley said in awe. "That is unusual."

"Yeah," I said. "I learned in like... four hours, I think."

"Four hours!" Mr. Crepsley gasped. "It took me months to learn!"

"You know how to play?" I asked.

He nodded. "I guess you learn something new everyday." He smiled as I handed him the guitar. He started playing, and it sounded vaguely familiar to "How to Love" by Lil' Wayne. (he didn't sing, though) He probably got a hold of my iPod (before I smashed it into a billion pieces) and learned to play that song.

Unlike how I play, he didn't really "get into" the song very much. He didn't nod his head to the beat like I usually did, though he kept a smile the whole time. He was probably thinking of something nice. Maybe something romantic. Guitars are usually associated with romance, right? Well, if I knew that guitars made him that happy, then maybe I would have gotten him a guitar sooner.

When the song was through, I clapped for him. He stood and managed a pseudo bow "Thank you."

"I had no idea you knew how to play so well," I said. "While reading about you, I had no idea that you could sing, play piano, or speak fluent Latin. Now that I think about it, there's probably a thousand things I don't know about you."

"I do not know that much about you either," Mr. Crepsley told me. "If I did, I do not think we would have had any troubles with each other."

"I know more about you than you know about me, I will admit."

"I agree," Mr. Crepsley said. "When I first met you and you acted so strangely, I knew that there was something you knew about me and were not saying. Then when you told me all of those things to knew about me, I was amazed – not to mention freaked out a little."

I chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about that. I have that affect on people. You must have thought I was the weirdest person in the world."

"Pretty much."

Later, while Mr. Crepsley was resting and I was reading the fifth volume of BLEACH and Mr. Crepsley was taking a break, resting on a couch, I got the weirdest idea I have ever had. Well, maybe. (I think that becoming Crepsley's assistant _may_ top this one.)

"Mr. Crepsley," I whispered loudly, just in case he was asleep. Mr. Crepsley glared up at me for interrupting his rest. "I'm seventeen now," I said, "so don't you think it's time I became a vampire? I mean, you know me well-ish, I've been through three years of hell – I mean training – with two different vampires, and I'm pretty sure that you know that I'll be loyal and trustworthy and stuff like that."

"No," he said plainly. "I do not think so."

"Mr. Crepsley!" I whined. "Come on! Why don't you think I should become a vampire yet?" Mr. Crepsley was still glaring at me. He rolled his eyes then closed them. "Well?"

"Felicity, I do not want to talk about it right now. The sun is rising, so go to sleep or something," Mr. Crepsley commanded. Noticing that I wasn't going away, and my hands were on my hips, he continued. "I do not want to blood you until you are older," he said. "I am sure you know why."

"No, I don't know why," I said. "Tell me. I hate being a human! Vampires are so much stronger and faster and better than humans. I'm sick of this, 'I'm a human' crap. So tell me why you won't blood me." He hesitated. "Tell me," I growled.

"Because I do not want to suffer the consequences," he said finally. "Even just you being my assistant as a _human_ this young is dangerous for me. I do not want to go through questioning, and trial, and all of the other boring things that can happen to me. At least this way the sentence would be lessened."

"If you're so afraid of getting in trouble, you little suck up, then why am I even here? Why am I your assistant?" I asked angrily.

"I have always had a soft spot for the underdogs," he answered calmly.

I was officially offended. "Underdog?" I scoffed. "So now I'm the underdog? I knew it. You only did all this to pity me because you didn't think I could handle life on my own." There was a silence for a few seconds after that in which Mr. Crepsley looked at me ruefully with his mouth gaping open as if he wanted to apologize to me but couldn't. I sighed, "Good night, Crepsley. See you when I wake up. Or do you need to tuck me in, too? Because, you know, I can't even handle going to sleep on my own."

I went off behind a bookshelf and fumed for a while, trying to sort things out and possibly fall asleep for a while. Fail.

"But it is only midnight," I heard Crepsley mumble under his breath. At this I rolled my eyes.

Somebody tell me: was I taking this too seriously, or was I right? Was Mr. Crepsley being a jerk or what? Ah! I was so annoyed!

This reoccurring pattern of, "Mr. Crepsley, I hate you," then, "Mr. Crepsley, I'm sorry," needed to end. What was it with the love-hate relationship crap? My entire life was turning into a dramatic soap-opera. I was just waiting for one of us to go into a coma for a month and have the other person fall madly in love with the comatose one (which in my case, would be pretty cool, not the coma part, but the falling in love part). Don't you just love those cheesy soap-opera clichés?

Two hours passed before I got really bored and began to forget why I was so mad. Now, it seemed like a stupid feat to be so angry with my mentor. That, and I really needed to pee.

I left the comfort and security of my bookshelf-nook-thing and immediately took a detour into the bathroom. After that, I returned to the lobby and I saw Mr. Crepsley wasn't there, so I went looking for him. I found him in the kids' book section looking at a picture book. He was flipping through the pages looking at them meticulously, taking in every detail.

"Is that a good read?" I joked, referring toward my mentor's illiteracy. Mr. Crepsley didn't look up. "Hello?" I said after a long pause. "Earth to Crepsley?"

"Children's literature is so simple," he stated casually.

"If you look at the deeper meaning of it, you will realize that it's not only very simple, but it's also sometimes very morbid and inappropriate." I said with a smirk.

"Inappropriate?" Mr. Crepsley questioned, taking his sight off the book finally and looking at me. "How so?"

I smirked. "Do you know that old nursery rhyme, 'rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub?' Just think about that for a second."

"Why me?" Mr. Crepsley laughed uncharacteristically. "Why must you do this? You say something creepy, then I get a mental image, and then I am afraid for the rest of the night."

I came up close behind him, hovered over his shoulder and whispered in his ear creepily, "It's okay, Mr. Crepsley." He tensed. "There's no reason to be... afraid..."

"And again, why me!" he yelled and shoved me away playfully. At least I _think_ it was playful...

"I know I have said this a billion times before," I stated after I finished laughing, "I'm sorry for being so rude to you earlier."

"No, I am sorry. I was acting like a jerk," Mr. Crepsley apologized. "It was my fault. You had every right to be angry with me. I apologize."

"That's always the way," I sighed. "This always happens! Every time! We fight, I blame myself, then you turn it around and blame _yourself _then I get depressed and hide in a corner all night until I am incapable of crying any more tears."

"I know," he said plainly. That's all he could say after that; he couldn't think of anything else. Nor could I.

The rest of the night passed quickly. As Mr. Crepsley became unable to remain conscious, I still didn't want to go to sleep. In three years, I hadn't really seen much of the daylight. I'd been locked away indoors or in a deep sleep from anywhere between six in the morning to nine at night, depending on the seasons. The lack of sunlight has made my skin as pale as Mr. Crepsley's. Sure, I was never very tan before, but at this point, I barely remembered what sunlight was like.

I felt like I didn't have any freedom anymore. Between lessons and training with Mr. Crepsley filling up my nights, I got so overwhelmed with the uneventfulness and monotony my life revolves around (which is an odd thing to say, considering that I lived with a vampire).

The thing that made my isolation from the world worse was my depression and self-esteem issues. When I was depressed, I was usually very, very unhappy. Like, teary, unhappy. Lashing out at people, unhappy. With my low self-esteem came the fact that I didn't feel good about myself (obviously), I felt like I couldn't do anything, and that everyone hated me. I felt like my world was going to crumble apart around me sometimes.

I – thankfully – had no suicidal intent, though. I hated my life most of the time, but I didn't want to put Mr. Crepsley through any of the trouble of finding me dead one day. That would really put a damper on his day, don't you think?

I think it really used to bother him when I would talk about my depression; every time I would talk about it, he wouldn't know how to respond or he'd become completely unresponsive. Other times he would try to change the subject. Any time it would come up, there would be an awkward tension between the two of us. I wondered why he used to hate this subject so much.

One day, I was feeling depressed, angry and oh-so lonely, but I wasn't mad at Crepsley; I was mad at myself for reasons unknown, which was making me sad. The sullenness was clear to see on my face. Mr. Crepsley came over to me and crouched by my side.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, sounding very concerned.

"I feel useless," I replied sadly.

Mr. Crepsley looked at me sympathetically he featured laced with concern. "You are not useless," he told me. "You have much good to offer for the world."

"Sure," I said sarcastically. I shook my head. "I'm just a waste of space. I'm useless."

"Not true," Mr. Crepsley disagreed. "I have heard you sing, play the piano, play the guitar, I have seen you write, too." He looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

"You weren't supposed to see that," I said, a slightly sad smile on my face. I looked down and mentally kicked myself for not being sneaky enough as to hide my writing from my mentor. "I'm not very good at it anyway," I said.

"And how do you know that?" he asked.

"Well, I really don't because I have never showed it to anyone."

"Show it to me," Mr. Crepsley said. "You could read it to me if you want to."

"No," I refused. "I'm ashamed of it."

Mr. Crepsley looked surprised. "Ashamed? Why are you ashamed of your writing?" he asked.

"None of your business." A lot of my writing was shounen-ai and yaoi and I had the feeling he would be very freaked out by that, especially since all the pairings were of people he actually knew.

"I am sorry for asking." Mr. Crepsley watched me as I silently – not to mention reluctantly – began to cry. He wiped the tears away from my face, which in result made me cry harder. I finally had someone who wouldn't yell at me for crying or being depressed, but someone that would comfort me.

"It is okay to cry," he said, "but I think you look much more beautiful when you smile." He smiled, himself. Did those words just come out of his mouth, or was I just hearing things?

"Thank you," I said feebly, my voice cracking a bit. I sniffled and mustered a weak smile. I leaned over and gave him a hug. He hugged me back. This made me wonder what else he had learned about being a good mentor – and friend – and who taught him it, while he was away and I was with Vancha. The world my never know.

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><p><strong>AN:** In the next chapter, you will know! In the comments (if you feel like it and if you even celebrate Thanksgiving) tell me what you're thankful for! I am thankful for all of you that have been reading this fan fiction. It's doing a lot better than I ever thought it would, and I thank all of you for that.  
>As for this fic, the end is not near. I have done some calculations (if you would like to call them that) and I came to find that part one of this fic (yes there is going to be a part two!) is probably going to have forty chapter, give or take a few. So if you like this fic, you are in luck! It's not over until that fat lady sings, and I don't think there's any fat ladies in this fic so far... Maybe I'll get Lady Evana to sing in the end of it. Heh heh, anyway, I'll see you all later. Have a great Thanksgiving! ;) And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving for whatever reason you have, happy Thursday. :D<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:******_Not quite the longest or the best chapter that has been written so far, but given me your record for being so easily amused by my fanfiction has given me the gumption to post another chapter. That, and the update rate, or lack thereof, so yep. Here it is. Chapter fourteen.  
>But before I get to the part you actually <strong>WANT<strong> to read, I'll get to the part that **I** want **you** to read. This whole fan fiction is dedicated to one person. Mr. Crepsley. Yes, that sounds odd, only if you aren't in on the secret. My main inspiration to write this fan fiction was because I met a teacher who currently works at my school that reminds me - looks like (doesn't have a scar or bright orange hair, though), acts like, talks like (to a certain extent; he uses contractions) - of Mr. Crepsley. I don't want to share his real name, in case my reading teacher or language arts teacher sees this and tells him. That would just be awkward... This fic started out a completely different way too. I started the beginning of it three different times, with many different characters. So yeah, I have put a lot of thought into this! Thank you, "Mr. Crepsley", for giving me the will to write this fic!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen:<strong>

Larten's POV

I thought I would have gathered some information about teaching through my own mentor, or maybe I would have figured it out along the way in my "adventures" with Felicity, but I quickly learned that it does not work that way.

My best bet to acquire information about teaching was to consult the master of teaching, the vampire who had many assistants before, my former mentor, Seba Nile. I knew where I could find him. He would usually be in Vampire Mountain, so that is where I would go.

After leaving Felicity's side, I thought that a huge burden would be lifted off my shoulders, but it was not so. Instead, I found myself worrying if Vancha would treat her right or if Felicity would even want to come back with me. I was especially worried about Vancha. I knew that Felicity was in good hands, but I also knew how Vancha was. You know what I mean.

The trek to Vampire Mountain was as difficult and dangerous as ever, the constant freezing cold weather, very few rest stops, only a small amount of blood to drink and the frequent animals raiding my campsites for food. I think the worst part, though, was the uncomfortable, scratchy, traditional outfits we were required to wear. I did not run into any troubles apart from the small nuisances I mentioned.

During the time I was traveling I began to miss Felicity's company. That was odd, considering the rude comebacks, frequent sullen mood and the craziness that she had brought into my life. It was strangely hard to part with.

The next few weeks were lonely; not only did I miss Felicity's company, but I missed company in general. The only one I had was a squirrel that decided to follow me. I occasionally gave it scraps of food and formed and unlikely friendship with it. By the time I reached the mountain, I did not see the squirrel anymore. Very rarely would I see any animals at all.

Once in the mountain, the guards garbed in green in the welcoming hall – although their duty calls for complete and utter monotony – were pleased to see me. It had been too long. They let me pass without any question, apart from asking me to state my name and business here.

"Larten Crepsley, come to seek Seba Nile."

The first place I went to look for him was the dining hall. I could usually find him there. When I found him, he was exactly where I thought he would be. He was in the hall of Khledon Lurt, talking with a couple of Generals at a table in the back of the hall. I did not recognize any of the generals, but I would have recognized Seba from anywhere.

As silently as I could, I came up behind the elder vampire and did that this Felicity would do and called him an old geezer from behind him. He spun around quickly to face me. "Larten!" he roared happily.

"The one and only," I smiled proudly I hugged him for a brief moment before I let him go.

"How have you been?" he asked me casually.

"Life has been better," I sighed. "I was thinking about old times and also how you dealt with me all these years," I said with a sentimental smile on my face.

"Patience," Seba answered wisely and smiled warmly. That nice smiled was soon replaced with a smirk. "That and liquor. Lots of liquor."

I smiled, thinking back to my younger years. "Yes, liquor seems to have solved a lot of problems." Then I frowned. I did not think that liquor would solve the problems between Felicity and I.

"What is wrong?" Seba asked, noticing the troubled look on my face. "Is there something getting you down?"

"That is the reason I am here," I said vaguely.

"What is it?" Seba asked. "Troubles with the ladies?" he joked.

"You could say that."

We laughed and joked for a while after that, not even talking about the subject I mentioned. (Seba had long since said goodbye to the Generals, by the way.) "I heard you have an assistant now," Seba stated, "a young one, too."

"Yes," I said, "but she is still human."

"'She'?" Seba asked, sounding slightly concerned. "So your assistant is... female?"

"Yes. Is that going to cause any problems?" I asked sternly, slightly offended.

"No! Not at all!" Seba said, correcting himself. "It is just a bit unusual for a male vampire to have a female assistant unless you two are ma– "

"Do not even suggest that," I laughed, although I was completely mortified. "I need to talk to you about her. She has been giving me trouble."

"Trouble?" Seba asked me skeptically. "What sort of trouble?"

"Her attitude. She has been very rude to me lately."

"How so?" he asked. I told him about how she talks back and how arrogant she can be at times. I mentioned how often we argues and that it was usually my fault that we were arguing. I added in a random fact: her fondness for mustaches, and I also described her life a bit.

"So," Seba began after I told him the story about Felicity, "what you are asking me to do is to teach you how to control your grouchy teenaged female assistant," he mused. "Sounds like you have gotten yourself in deep water this time."

I sighed. "She is a good pupil overall; she is intelligent, clever, quick, strong, loyal, brave and trustworthy, but she has a rather bad attitude toward me at times. I am not sure what I am doing wrong," I paused. "I feel she does not respect me."

Seba took a moment to ponder this, then he smiled. "That is just how teenagers are. You were one once, remember? Most of them do not give very much respect to people, especially in this day in age. Of what you described of your assistant, it seems to me that she does not know the meaning of respect. You did say she was bullied and looked down upon by her peers, even adults, including her parents."

"Yes," I said, "but it is different." I did not want to tell him about the book series that features me as the protagonist, so I tried to be as vague as possible. "She said she knew about me before she met me. She told me – or rather inferred – that she admired me."

"How does she act around you?" he asked suddenly.

"Sometimes she acts stupid, other times she only wants to spar."

"It seems to me that the main source of this 'disrespect' that she is showing towards you is the result of a crush. I think she has – as the young ones say these days – a _thing_ for you."

I nearly choked on that. "A 'thing'?" I gasped in awe that he was actually suggesting this. "She does _not_ have a _thing_ for me!"

"Do not be so sure," Seba smirked. "Just think back. Can you recall any suspicious incidents?" he asked.

"Well," I pondered, "I did wake up one day to find that Felicity had crawled into my bed with me and slept there." I scratched the back on my neck.

Seba laughed. "She did? What happened then? What did you do?"

"Well, I was mortified that she was using my chest as a pillow..." I could see Seba trying to hold back his laughter, to no avail. "She told me it was because she was cold," I said in my own defense.

"I am sure that is why," Seba chuckled. "So this was your big problem? A girl who just so happens to be your assistant has a crush on you and you are so worked up about it? Get a grip, Larten."

"That is not the problem," I said, "I do not care if she has a crush on me, I just want you to teach me how to teach. Felicity has told me that I am a horrible teacher a few times, and I do not want to be a horrible teacher to her anymore."

"So you want me to teach you to teach?"

"Yes, if it is not any trouble."

Seba slapped my back, causing me to choke on my own spit. "Why did you not just ask this in the first place?"

"I did not think it was that simple."

"It is not! But do we really have to make it seem like it is?"

It was odd to be taught by Seba again. This time it was different; quite simple, actually. His main advise was this: be patient. Somehow, I had never really considered that very much. I knew patience was key, but I had never really paid any attention to it before.

"I have been patient," I said. "Surely there is something else that I am doing wrong."

"You sound just like you did fifty years ago, Larten," he said bitterly then muttered, "Children.

"You must let her be herself and do not try to shape her to your liking; just guide her in the right direction," he said. I tried to interrupt him, but he continued before I could get even a single syllable in. "If you find she is disrespecting you, you must lay down the law and tell her that you do not appreciate it, in a firm way, but not where you are yelling at her. Show respect to her, and she will show respect to you. Give a little to get a little. She won't show a lot of respect to you at first. It is not until later in life where she will show respect to you."

"I know that," I sighed, becoming slightly irritated. "I have figured as much, but that is not the reason I am here. I just need you to teach me teaching not respect and patience. "

"I _am_ teaching you! Would you just shut up, swallow your pride and listen to what I am telling you!" Seba exclaimed. I hung my head and retreated back into my seat. I had not even realized that I had stood.

"As I said before," Seba continued, "patience is number one. I am repeating myself because I know – better than anyone – how thick your skull is.

"There are many methods to teaching, and the best way to get your point across is to make it so Felicity will not be bored and will not become distracted. If she come distracted of bored, make her listen to you, someway, somehow. You figure that out.

"The odds are that Felicity does in fact respect you, so if she does, she will listen to you. Or maybe she just does not know how to show respect to anyone and she will just ignore you. Whatever happens, in the end, I am sure she will turn out just fine, okay?"

"Well that is reassuring," I said sarcastically.

"Now," Seba said, "next topic. You said Felicity has depression. How well do you handle that?"

"Not very well," I admitted. "I have never had to work with someone as sad as her."

"Name some things that make her happy."

"She loves to read, sing and play the piano. I have also seen her writing too. Although I have never talked to her about writing. Vampires do not really care much for it."

"Maybe you should ask her about it," Seba suggested. I nodded. "When she cries, how do you handle that? What do you do?" he asked.

"I usually just mind my own business, unless I am the reason for her tears."

Seba laughed. "All you have to do is try to calm her down and comfort her in any way you can, and for the love of the gods, no matter what happened, even if you have to pretend, be on her side. Agree with her, and do not try to comfort her right away if you are the one who made her cry. That will only get you hurt."

"Mentally or physically?" I asked.

"Most likely both."

"Good to know," I said, concerned, "but how would I comfort her?"

"That depends. We will have to work on that," he said.

For the next week, Seba brought random situations to me in which I would need to help him "overcome". Of course, none of these situations were real, and they were so unrealistic and silly that I could barely take them seriously. I felt slightly like a therapist for a clown.

"My hamster died!" Seba cried one time. "What will I ever do to get through this!" I could see that he was trying his hardest not to break out with laughter.

"Why, Seba? Why a dead hamster?" I questioned, finding it completely ridiculous.

"Dead pets are something humans get upset about, are they not?" Seba asked with a serious expression now.

"Uh..." I paused, "well, losing a pet is... never easy, but it is the circle of life. No hamster will live forever, but if they did, then they would be running everywhere... uh... and they would overrun the population, and they would take over the world and... oh my gods, I am starting to sound like Felicity!"

Seba pretended to sniffle. "Thank you." He "composed" himself. "And you passed. Your training is complete."

"I do not feel as if I have accomplished anything though," I said, "but I do not want to go through this ridiculousness again. I will be leaving tomorrow. It was nice to see you again, and I will be back for Council."

"Then I will see you in four years," Seba said as I got up to leave to my cell for the night. "And make sure to bring that lovely assistant of yours. I would really love to meet her."

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><p>Not the best chapter yet, but not the worst... Or is it? Eh, whatever... Bye!<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: I know what you're all thinking. "Wow. Mae hasn't updated in a long time. She must hate us." My answer to your thoughts are this: No! I don't hate you! I love ALL of you guys! You guys are awesome! I have just come down with a case of laziness and procrastination. And stacking that on top of a short attention span is not the best way to go. So please, don't give up on me yet! I have been disappointed with my chapters lately as it is and I don't need you guys yelling at me and trying to kill me! (If that made any sense, which I'm fairly certain it did not. I have a cold, and I'm tired, so I have an excuse to be stupid, okay!) D:_

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Felicity POV

Weeks passed. Months passed. Years passed. Before I knew it, it was three years later and I was now twenty years old. The time flew by faster than I could keep track of it; I grew a little bit, mentally and physically.

I wasn't much taller, only a few inches; now I was five feet, three inches tall, and much to my dismay, this is as tall as I would get. My hair was still cut the same way it always was before, a few inches long, but it no longer had purple in it although I was considering dying my hair again. Maybe green, like Vancha's...

My depression was better now, but not a lot. I was usually only depressed when there was a valid reason for it. I still cried, and there was still those violent mood swings, but it would only last a few hours then I would come out of it, instead of being a grouch all day long. I was very rarely depressed anymore. Mr. Crepsley was better with helping me with my depression now; I guess his "training" with Seba really paid off in the end.

The passed three years, I will admit, were rather boring. I had a pet squirrel though, which I watched be brutally murdered by the wheels of an oncoming Ford Raptor. Forevermore, Fords will be the official symbol of evil. The squirrel – Bob – was a friend to Mr. Crepsley as well, although he said it was stupid to give a squirrel a name an keep it as a pet. Of course, he was right, but that squirrel touched his heart as well as mine, and that was undeniable.

When Bob died, I didn't cry, but I was definitely upset. Mr. Crepsley wasn't as morose as I was, but the slight hurt and pity for me he felt was clear to see on his face.

"Losing a pet is... never easy," Mr. Crepsley said to me, "but it is the circle of life. No squirrel will live forever, but if they did, then squirrels would be running around everywhere... uh... and they would overrun the population, and they would take over the world and–"

"That's what you said in your training with Seba, isn't it?" I sniffled. Mr. Crepsley gazed down at me, but he didn't utter a word. I took that as a yes. A week after the death of Bob, I was completely over it and could care less, but I think that Mr. Crepsley was over it the day after it happened.

We were living in a motel now, which seemed to be a once-per-year sort of thing now. It was very dirty, small, dusty, gross, the stereotypical motel room. But I didn't really mind that much. It was shelter. No, it wasn't cold outside, it wasn't rainy, it was summer time. It wasn't humid though; it was mosquito season.

Because of Mr. Crepsley's vampiric blood the mosquitoes would ignore him because they – like all other animals – were allergic to the blood of vampires. But I was a different story. I didn't have the advantage of vampiric blood, so the mosquitoes would attack me until I was covered with itchy bites. Those little blood-sucking vermin were like the Vampaneze of the insect world.

Luckily, our motel room had two beds instead of one this time. Mr. Crepsley had his side, I had my side. We agreed to stay out of each others space, for neither of us want a repeat of what happened last time we were in a hotel last year. I don't want to talk about it.

Mr. Crepsley was siting on his bed while I was sitting on mine. I was cold now because I was right next to the AC. "Can we trade sides?" I asked my mentor as I shivered in my tank top and shorts.

"No."

"But I'm cold," I whined.

"Get over it.

I glared at him. "Who peed in your Cheerios?" I asked sourly, my arms folded across my chest in an effort to look stern.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind." I laid down and pulled the blanket up over my head and tried to fall asleep after I took off my nerdy-looking, thick-rimmed glasses and put them on the side table. I wasn't in PJ's yet, but I really didn't care, PJ's or not.

Falling asleep had been a nearly impossible task for me lately; Mr. Crepsley said it was a simple case of insomnia, but I refused to believe it. Very rarely did I get a good day of sleep anymore. Actually, I don't think I got one day of sleep that lasted more than three hours in the last three years. But of course, Larten got a ton of sleep every day. He slept like a baby.

I tossed and turned all day on the uncomfortable mattress. I tried to fluff the pillow, but all I got was a dust cloud in the face and a lumpy cushion. I could never win, could I?

Angry, I took the pillow and threw it across the room. It landed on Mr. Crepsley's head. I stifled a giggle as he grunted then unconsciously moved the pillow under his head. Fudge, I thought. That was my only pillow.

I could manage without a pillow. I had slept under worse circumstances and in worse places. Anyway, I had my blanket, that was enough. But it was an itchy, uncomfortable blanket that probably hadn't been washed in ages. At this, I threw the blanket across the room, and I was too lazy to pick it up. How could I have been so stupid? Now I was cold.

At the thought of the hygiene, or lack thereof, of this motel, I began to think that the motel was never cleaned, the bedsheets were dirty and covered with dust mites, bedbugs, and the like. This was more than likely untrue, but I wasn't in the right state of mind then; I was exhausted. I jumped out of the bed. I felt itchy, but I was sure it was just a subconscious thing.

Great news, now I was cold and without a bed to sleep in because I was too stubborn to swallow my pride and just sleep under these unfortunate conditions. Larten seemed pretty comfortable with his bed... hmm... that gave me an idea.

I slight smirk formed on my face. Without giving it much thought, I carefully crawled onto Larten's bed and slipped under the down covers. Conveniently, Larten didn't sense my presence. Warmness! Within a minute I fell asleep; it was a rare peaceful sleep.

^ – ^

I woke up in the morning to the sound of Larten's groggy voice. "This again?" He said, annoyed. "Felicity, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Grumpy-Pants," I grumbled sourly.

"Felicity, why in the world are you in my bed right now? What did we agree on?" Mr. Crepsley asked, sounding irritated, but he was undoubtedly amused.

"See that AC over there?" I asked tiredly, a groggy slur in my voice. "Yeah, well, it's evil. Positively heinous. It was on all day while I was trying to fall asleep and nearly froze me to death. I thought the pillows and blankets were infested with bedbugs and... dirt... and... stuff..." I paused awkwardly, "so I ran out of there as fast as I could, jumped into your bed and fell asleep. You're very cuddly by the way. Any questions?" I smirked.

"What makes you think that my bed was any less bug-infested?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

I glared at him. Okay, maybe the fact that I still had a giant crush on him influenced that action. So what? I wondered if Mr. Crepsley realized yet that I had a crush on him. Probably not. He was a man, and let's face it. Men are stupid. Most of them anyway.

"Whatever," I said, trying to avoid the subject. "I just woke up, and you're already questioning my logic. Well I've got one word for you. Nothing. Now, get out of my bed." I closed my eyes and laid back with my arms folded under my head as a pillow. "The sun had yet to rise."

"You are evicting me from my own bed now? I see how it is," Mr. Crepsley shook his head and got off of the full-sized mattress. "You annoy me sometimes," he concluded.

"Uh huh. That's my job," I mumbled tiredly, waved him away then ordered, "Go get us some breakfast. Pancakes, wench."

"Go to sleep!" Mr. Crepsley called back, laughing. I smiled again, feeling accomplished that I managed to complete the ultimate task of amusing Mr. Crepsley. I caught a few more _z_s before the evening became the night.

Waking up again seemed to be like mission impossible. I had nothing to look forward to, and on top of that I was completely exhausted still. Sleep did nothing for me. There was a difference between sleep and genuine rest, and that is something I wasn't getting much of lately.

I thought that waking up would have taken all of my remaining strength away this morning. My eyelids were heavy and my limbs felt as if they were made of lead. If I didn't know any better, I would say that I had been drugged because that's what it seemed like.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Mr. Crepsley greeted me from his spot at the table when he found that I had woken up and was walking – more like dragging my feet – in his direction.

I groaned like a sleep-deprived zombie in response as I shuffled my feet across the floor, trying to work my way over to the bathroom. I walked by Mr. Crepsley without saying anything that could be interpreted as words. I caught him glance at me with an odd look in his jade eyes. He scratched his scar in deep thought then solemnly sipped his coffee.

Once in the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and felt sick. I was not pleased at all. Although most of my acne had cleared up, given my age, I was disgusted by my image. I was far too skinny.

Six years earlier, I thought I weighed too much. Now, six years later, I weighed too little, and I was sure of it this time. Yes, you may be thinking, "You can never be pleased with yourself, can you?" The answer to that is no, I cannot. I have always had issues with myself, the way my body looked. I was too insecure. But that wasn't my fault.

I barely ever ate decent meals anymore; I hadn't in a little less than six years. If Larten picked me up and accidentally dropped me, I swear I would break into a billion pieces, or explode into a Felicity-dust cloud. I weighed merely ninety-six pounds, which is not at all a healthy weight for a woman my age of twenty and my height of 5' 3". (Don't laugh at my height!)

I couldn't eat food though. Either I didn't have the appetite, or I would throw it up. I wasn't purposely getting sick, I simply couldn't keep food down. Why would I intentionally rid my body of something it craved so badly? I must have come across a bug or something, because for the past few months, I hadn't been able to eat much food without feeling sick. It was getting better, which was a plus, but it still wasn't gone. I was hoping it would be gone soon. I couldn't handle it anymore!

I showered quickly; once I was done, I brushed my teeth. I didn't bother to brush my hair though. It was so short anyway. I really didn't care this morning, plus, who did I really have to impress? Mr. Crepsley? Yeah, right. I think we were both over that by now.

I came out of the bathroom with only a bathrobe wrapped around myself. I yawned as I retrieved my clothes. I saw Mr. Crepsley gazing at over at me. In response, I eyed him quizzically.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped. I didn't mean to be curt, but my tiredness took over for a second there and made me say things in tones I didn't mean to muster.

Mr. Crepsley looked away. Today, I really didn't care enough to wear clothes. This bathrobe was good enough. I threw the clothes back at my bag, not bothering to be neat and and carefully place them inside.

"Screw this," I said, "I'm too tired and lazy to get dressed." I threw myself down on the couch and closed my eyes.

"Felicity, go get some clothes on. We have training to do," the orange-haired vampire answered. Noticing my reluctance, he pulled me up by my hand. Once I was standing again, I was smiling as Mr. Crepsley picked up my clothes from the floor and handed them to me.

"Get dressed and meet me back in here in five minutes. Then we will leave."

"Where are we going?" I asked as I took the clothes and walked into the bathroom.

"Camping," he smiled.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hello all! I'm not dead! Although my wrist is all screwed up. It's broken or something. I'm not so sure. Well, I have returned to update. I have been busy lately, so you might not see my face around here much. Over Feb vacation, I will be posting frequently. I promise, come summer vacation, all that will happen is updates. And now! The moment (a few of) you have been waiting for: Chapter 16!

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Felicity POV

"I just love the outdoors, do you not?" Larten asked joyfully as he took a deep breath of the wildernessy air that seemed do putrid and disgusting to me at times.

"Oh yeah," I answered sarcastically as I slapped my arm to kill a mosquito. "It's just great." We continued on through the woods until Larten abruptly stopped and jumped at me.

I yelled out, surprised, but I was able to defend myself and move out of the way, grab his arm and twist it all the was around and behind his back.

"What the _hell_ was that about!" I yelled at him, pulling his arm harder around his back.

He winced at his dislocated shoulder. "I-It was part of your –ah– t-training. If you can get a vampire into a hold like this as a human, just imagine what you will be capable of when you are a vampire," he grunted, a smirk on his handsome, scarred face.

"I don't really care," I said angrily "I just want you to warn me before you do this sort of reckless stuff, Crepsley!"

"Well, that is just too bad, now is it not?" he said and quickly managed to free himself and pop his shoulder back into place, grimacing as he did so. He tried to round-house kick me, but I ducked out of the way just in time before his foot could connect to my face or whatever else he was aiming for.

When he stood again he swung at my face with his sharp nails extended. I ducked backward and watched as him hand whooshed past me in what felt like slow motion. When I was standing straight up again, I Sparta-kicked him in the chest. I could only barely reach his chest with my foot because he was so tall and I was so short, though, which is always embarrassing.

"You are good at fighting with your bare fists," he teased, "but how good are you with knives?" He pulled a dagger out of the sheath on his belt. The glint in the blade caught my eye, then the shimmer in his sadistic smirk when he lunged at me. I quickly retrieved my sharpened kunai knife from the inside of my boot. I held it tightly in my right hand and I was prepared to use it against my own mentor, no matter how horrible that sounds.

When Mr. Crepsley was alongside me he attempted to nick my arm. "Three nicks to win," Mr. Crepsley said. I blocked it by grabbing his wrist and twisting it around. At this point, I was sick of fighting, so I kicked him down. He did a somersault and got back to his feet within a second.

Mr. Crepsley had been going easy on me. That's why I was so far ahead in this battle, but now he was getting tired of it. I knew that from this point on there would be no more going easy on me. He tackled me once again. When my back connected with the ground the wind was knocked out of me.

"M-M-Mist–er–" I gasped; I couldn't continue to talk. I attempted to talk again, but he didn't need me to finish. He grabbed me by my waist and slung me over his shoulder. He grabbed my backpack a few yards away.

"Our campsite is a fourth of a mile away," Mr. Crepsley stated. "I will carry you there and we can continue this thing later." I sighed. I didn't want him to carry me there, I could walk on my own. Of course, I wouldn't be very fast and I would probably slow him down, but still, I didn't like being patronized by him.

"But... Mr... Cre–"

"Shh, do not say anything." Slung over his shoulder, still trying to catch my breath, Mr. Crepsley flitted. When we arrived at the clearing he dropped me on the ground. I landed with a grunt. He handed me my bag and my guitar along with the bag loaded with our supplies. "Try to set up the tent," he ordered, "and I will build a fire. Once you figure out that your failure to pitch the tent is inevitable, then I can build the tent for you while you cook up something for us to eat, got it?"

"You know me so well," I grinned then took the tent out of the bag. I put the shelter out in front of me and studied it carefully. I fished through the bag for the directions, to no avail, so I resorted to dumping out all of the contents of the bag. Mr. Crepsley looked at me with an amused smirk as he got some sticks and logs from the edge of the clearing by some rocks to use to ignite the fire.

I looked at the manual for the tent to try to piece it together. "Okay," I mumbled, "put this in this thingy with the thing in the thing with the... and the... uh... freaking llamas, I can't do this!" I ripped the manual in half and threw the pieces in the air. "We can use this as kindling if you want," I said to Mr. Crepsley, who was looking over at me, wondering what all the commotion was about, "because it's all Greek to me, and I'm pretty sure that you won't understand it."

"You are giving up already?" Mr. Crepsley laughed. I could see he had put the rocks in a circle and added a few logs and sticks there for fire. "It has only been three minutes."

"Really?" I gasped. "It felt like an hour!" Mr. Crepsley chuckled. I could see him struggling, rubbing sticks off of rocks like a caveman trying to get a spark to light the fire. He went on that way for ten minutes as I waited as patiently (sort of) as I could be while I squirmed where I sat.

"C'mon, Mr. Crepsley! Don't torture me like this!" I finally whined after a momentary lapse in patience.

"Do _you_ want to make the fire?" Mr. Crepsley asked calmly, "because I can have that arranged if you would like."

I laughed and said with mock sweetness, "Well, of course I don't want to make the fire, silly! But I can't make you anything to eat if you don't speed things up."

"Felicity," he said with a warning voice, "do not rush me. I will be finished when I am finished, and you pestering me about it is not going to make me go any faster."

"My apologies," I said mockingly and reached into my skirt pocket. I pulled out a red Bic lighter and tossed it to him. He caught it without even looking up.

"Where did you get this?" he asked as he studied the device for a few seconds before trying – and failing – to use it on the kindling. "W-what is wrong with it?" he asked finally.

"Oh my gods, Crepsley! Get a clue!" I joked. I stood up and walked over to him calmly. "Gimme," I demanded as I held out my hand for the lighter.

Mr. Crepsley paused then stubbornly said, "No!" and gripped the lighter tightly.

"Come on, don't make me force it from you," I said, noticing his reluctance to abandon his task. After a few seconds, he gave in and handed it to me. "Thank you," I said smugly.

Mr. Crepsley and I traded stations. There was another camp a mile or so back in which my mentor and I stole food from. They had a bunch of good foods, like hot dogs, hamburgers, beans, and then my favorite foods, which I had to beg Mr. Crepsley to let me take, ramen and pocky. I was a very happy person, to say the least.

I took three packages of ramen out of our bag as I munched on some chocolate pocky. I opened the packages gingerly, trying my best not to create a repeat of last time I had ramen, where I struggled to get the package open, it ripped, and the ramen flew everywhere. I put two of the opened ramen packs into the pot with the now boiling water.

I ate my ramen raw, too lazy and impatient to wait for mine to cook. This was my usual supper when I lived at home with my family, why not bring the tradition with me in my travels?

Carelessly, poured the chicken flavored seasoning into the pot. Mr. C was almost done with the tent at this point.

"Having fun over there?" I asked to Crepsley with a smile on my face. I stirred the ramen until it was cooked to perfection. I poured the noodles and broth into a bowl and decided it was fun to eat ramen with chopsticks, so I gave him the chopsticks I got a couple days ago from a Chinese restaurant we stopped at for lunch.

"Hurry up," I called when Mr. Crepsley was finished setting up the tent. "Your food's getting cold!"

He brushed the dirt off his hands. "Thank you," he said gratefully as he took the Tupperware bowl from my hands.

"Does it taste like chicken?" I asked him randomly after he took his first bite.

Mr. Crepsley paused briefly before answering, "Yes."

"Good," I responded joyfully. After that, he requested a fork; reluctantly I obeyed and handed him a plastic version of said cutlery. I felt slightly offended that he didn't appreciate the chopsticks.

"Did you not make something for yourself?" he asked me, noticing that I wasn't eating, then he shoved a forkful of ramen into his mouth. I smiled giddily, trying not to giggle, squeal, or have an epic fangirl attack and glomp him. (Yes, I was used to being around him, but I still had my crazy, obsessed, fangirl moments every now and then, although they were becoming less and less.)

"I did," I said matter-of-factly. "I already ate my ramen."

"Did you eat it uncooked, or something?" he scoffed.

"Yes, yes I did," I responded.

"Oh. Nice," he said with much disinterest.

We sat in silence for a while; Mr. Crepsley ate his ramen while I sat on my knees in the grass, waiting for him to finish up. I was silently begging for him to break the silence by staring at him for a whole fifteen minutes. It was killing me.

"Mr. Crepsley?" I spoke up. It wasn't a very big surprise that I was the first one to talk... Half the time I couldn't keep my motor-mouth from going off. He grunted in response and looked up at me, slurping the last bit of ramen into his mouth. Frantically trying to think of something to say, I mentioned the first thing that came to mind. "You should grow a mustache," I concluded triumphantly.

"Excuse me?"

"You should grow a mustache," I repeated confidently. "Although beards are pretty awesome, too. I think you'd look pretty epic with a mustache. Maybe a flavor-saver right there," I pointed to my own chin.

"You really think that?" he asked, not believing a word I was telling him.

I laughed. "Heh heh, no. You'd look ridiculous. I'd shun you," I said with much composure.

"Really?"

"Well, I wouldn't shun you, but you'd look really stupid. Keep the clean-shaved thing you got going on. It suits you well," I smiled.

"Good to know."

Back to the awkward silence again. I sat silently, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for something to happen as I thought: "When is Crepsley going to be done eating his Ramen? Oh, he's getting up now. He's washing his dish. Now he's coming over to me again." After all those events, he stood in front of me and extended a hand to me. I eyed it warily, wondering what it was he wanted me to do.

He thrust his hand forward a bit more before saying, "Do not leave me hanging here," with a smirk on his face. That's when I finally realized that he wanted to help me up. Damn, I'm slow sometimes.

I took his hand and he pulled me up off the ground. When I was standing, I brushed he dust and dirt of my skirt and looked at him questioningly. "What's going on, old man?" I asked, smiling up at him.

"Follow me," he ordered calmly, seeming not to notice my playful insult toward him. He turned around and made his way over to the small tent.

"What?" I asked stupidly as I stood there for a moment, not exactly knowing what was going on in the world around me. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: "Follow him!" screamed the sensible voice in my mind. I bounded after him as fast as I could without tripping over my own clumsy feet. I opened the flap of the tent after him and entered. There, Mr. Crepsley was sitting cross-legged on his red sleeping bag. I followed his lead and sat on my knees on my own purple one.

"I do not know why I am choosing to do this now," he said with monotony, as usual, but with a hint of confusion in his voice as he looked down at his scarred fingertips, "but I feel that I should blood you tonight. That is, if you do not object to such actions."

I was surprised, but excited, to say the least. "You mean it?" I asked hopefully, something inside me making me believe that he was only trying to pull a prank on me. He nodded, which made excitment bubble up inside me. I gasped, not intending it to come out as a gasp, "Why tonight?"

"As I said before, I do not know," he said, his eyebrows furrowed and a look of great confusion on his face. He sort of looked like an emo vampire who couldn't decide his choices in his eternal life, although that's the wrong book series, so we can rule out that possibility. "I just feel that I should. Do you not want to?" He held out his hands for me to take them.

I hesitated. I had always wanted to become a vampire, become one like him, roam the night, be strong and powerful and live a long, good, successful life of traveling and seeing new things, but I also knew of the challenges and the responsibilities I would be charged with. Also the pain. I had never taken it all into consideration before now, when it really mattered. I was having cold feet.

But I decided that was just the past fourteen year old girl side of me speaking. I was older now; twenty, for gods' sake! I could handle a challenge! Suddenly, when I saw Mr. Crepsley was started to realized the fear and reluctance in my eyes, I brought my hands up to his and gripped his tightly.

"Are you positive that you still want to do this?" Larten calmly asked and arched an eyebrow at me. I nodded slightly a yes. "Alright," he said solemnly and proceeded to make slits in each of my ten finger tips. That's when the pain started and I wished it would go away.

He only got the the third finger of the first hand before I hissed and pain and pulled back a little bit. I felt hot tears of pain well in my eyes, but I would not let them fall. I would not show weakness, fear or that I was any less tough than an already fully blooded vampire.

Plus, I wanted to save my tears for later. There was pain far worse to come.

I looked into Larten's gorgeous jade eyes and saw that it pained him to cause me harm like this. I remember reading the first book of the Darren Shan Saga and thinking about how much of a sadistic jerk he seemed to be then. He wasn't like that now. He didn't enjoy hurting me in the slightest.

Once he was finished making the cuts in my fingertips, he made similar cuts in his own, right over his other scars. The wounds throbbed as Larten brought our fingertips together in the ultimate ritual of the blooding.

There was no significant pain at first, only a slight throbbing, awkward feeling in my fingertips, but then the pain got progressively worse, throughout my body. My arms began to ache then BOOM! The pain went straight to my chest without any warning as his blood flowed through my veins, into my heart.

I had never been stabbed in the chest, but I imagine that was what it felt like. Every beat of the organ was like the pounding of a bass drum in my chest. The pain made my heart rate increase, and soon enough, the pain became so unbearable, with my eyes clenched shut, I screamed through clenched teeth.

I could see my mentor fighting the urge to scream, yell, curse the gods or pull his hands away from mine. In order for the blooding to be successful and without death, we needed out fingers to remain locked until the pact of blood was complete.

The pain that felt like the burning of one's lungs after a brisk winter run continued for several more minutes, getting progressively worse as time wore on. Within those minutes, all I could think was, "This is the least painful way for this to get done, Felicity Taylor, would you rather the hard way? Do you even _want_ to know what the hard way is?"

When Mr. Crepsley finally decided that the torture could stop and the blooding was finished, I trusted his judgment, not wanting to deal with another millisecond of that pain and pulled my hands away and slumped forward, leaning on his shoulder. He put his fingers in his mouth to heal the cuts, then told me to do the same. Well that took care of one question: I was blooded a full vampire.

Once that was done, tear of pain were rolling down my face, showing to Larten that the pain had not ceased. My chest burned and I was sore all over.

My eyes were clenched shut and I was gripping my chest in agony. I knew that the pain was mutual for Crepsley too, but he had been through it before, and he was better than me at handling pain.

I moaned in pain. Mr. Crepsley looked at me ruefully, knowing that he was the cause of all of this pain. He wrapped his arms around me in a comforting hug. I gratefully accepted the embrace, and I must admit that I started to feel a little bit better laying in his arms.

The pain in my chest remained for a few hours until it began to subside slightly. Mr. Crepsley later told me that his pain ceased even before my own because of two reasons: one: he can handle pain better than I can, and two: he has been through this before.

"I'm g-gonna go to sleep now," I mumbled and resumed a more comfortable position, then I drifted off to sleep in his arms.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hours later, I awoke to find that Crepsley wasn't there. There was a piece of paper folded in fourths resting on the floor with a picture of something on it. I picked up the paper to examine it closer and realized that the picture was of a big smiley face with fangs, not very well drawn. That's our symbol we came up with that meant Mr. Crepsley went out to feed.

I smiled to myself and put the folded paper in my bag. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I sat up. I was about to put my glasses on, but that's when I realized that I didn't actually need them anymore. My eyesight was perfect, in fact better than perfect. I can see clearly now, and no, I am not about to start singing... everything looked almost... too vivid... That would be something to get used to.

I just realized now that my bag was open before (I'm very slow, if you couldn't already tell). I pulled it closer to me and rummaged through it to make sure nothing was missing or out of place. Nothing was gone, but there was a small bottle there that wasn't there before. I took it out and realized that it was filled with blood.

I tilted the vial from side to side watching the red liquid dance from side to side in a disgusting way. I already knew that this would be hard for me, but I never thought it would be this difficult. I always told myself that when the time came that I needed to drink blood, it would be a piece of cake, but now I wasn't so sure how realistic I was being when I told myself that.

Holding the small glass vial in my hand, I began to think that my reluctance was annoying, so I took off the top and gulped before I poured the contents of the bottle in my mouth. It tasted very metallic and rather disgusting, but it was worse as it went down. But there was no use complaining about it. Every vampire had to go through it.

From outside the tent I heard a rustle. Oh, great, I thought, the classic bear outside the tent during a camping trip. How cliched. Always in the end it turns out that there was, in fact, no bear at all and it was either the wind, a tree, or maybe the person you went camping with.

Let me tell you, it was _no_ bear. When I unzipped the tent and peered outside to see what was there, I saw that it was as tall as a bear (or taller, even) and as intimidating as a bear. But it was purple skinned and scarlet haired with sharp red nails, menacing eyes that stared daggers into my soul, the color of crimson blood.

Immediately I knew what it was and I feared for my life and wished that Larten was there to help me. It was a Vampaneze. A flood of thoughts washed over me. They were panicked. But I was speechless; I couldn't say anything, even if I wanted to.

"What do we have here, hmm?" the Vampaneze said with a deep, scratchy voice in a manner that seemed strangely familiar to me. "Young Murlough found a new-blood, hmm?"

I swore under my breath. Murlough, really? Now? Did it have to be now? There couldn't be a worse time for him to show up. If only Larten was here to help me. _I'm going to die tonight, aren't I?_ I thought.

"You are going to make young, handsome Murlough travel miles and miles more to find someone to feed from, hmm? Such a shame. You will pay for this, you know."

"No, _I_ won't pay," I retorted, finding my hidden courage from a source I still don't know about, "_you'll_ pay when Mr. Crepsley gets back." Oops. Probably shouldn't have mentioned him, huh? _Yep,_ I thought, _I'm screwed, no matter what happens.._

"Crepsley?" Murlough gasped, "Larten Crepsley? Well isn't this a surprise for young Murlough!" He laughed menacingly, then brushed my face with his hand in a mockingly loving way.

I swatted his hand away and stared into his cold, hateful eyes, scared to death but trying not to show it. Whether or not I succeeded to do so is a mystery to me, though I believe I did pretty well.

"The assistant of old Larten _Crapsley_, hmm?" he mocked, using the cliché that annoyed me so much, _Crapsley_. "I wonder how he would react to finding his beautiful, young assistant murdered when he returns. That would be a shame, hmm?"

"Too bad that won't happen, hmm?" I mocked him.

"It is a bad idea to get on young Murlough's bad side, you know, little girl. I was going to kill you quickly, but I guess now you will not be so lucky," the fat purple man chuckled creepily.

Oh, that did it. "Well, excuse me, mister, but I am NOT a little girl, and if you don't stop speaking in third person, you're the one who's going to to be killed slowly and painfully," I growled.

"Heh, heh, heh, your stubbornness is adorable, little girl. _You_ are an adorable little girl," Murlough taunted, a sadistic smirk on his face. "Since you are so cute, Murlough will give you a ten second head start to run to your beloved mentor to hide under his cloak while he comes to fight me like a real vampire, the kind you will never be."

"Make it a five second head start and we have a deal," I said bravely. I had no idea where all this courage was coming from. Under normal circumstances, I was terrified to go up against Mr. Crepsley, even knowing that he would go somewhat easy on me. But with Murlough I knew there would be no mercy shown what-so-ever, and that I was going up against this psychopathic killer. Fearlessly. My head was so screwed up.

Murlough chuckled again. Sadistic little...

"Good," he said slowly then began the countdown. "Five..." he started, but I remained where I was. "Four..." his grin grew wider, giving me a great sense of unease, but still I held my ground. "Three... two..." He paused, and I emerged from the tent and faced him bravely, eye to eye. "One."

The fat, white garbed Vampaneze threw himself at me, but I managed to slide skillfully out of the way before he could get at me. After he had made the first move, that's when the fight commenced. Gulp.

"A sneaky one, aren't you, hmm?" Murlough purred the supplied a rusty blade that he had probably found discarded by a camper that used it once. I remembered that I had forgotten to grab my knife. Smooth move...

I scrambled for my sharply filed kunai knife which I knew was in my bag. I grabbed the knife and simultaneously I felt two large hands grip each of my ankles. I gave a startled yelp and accidentally dropped my knife – possibly my only way of survival – when the cold hands dragged me out of the tent and my skin scraped against rough, jagged rocks and gritty dirt. With his knife, he made a teasing cut from my shoulder blades down to my lower back. I took it as a warning of what may have been to come. I screamed in pain through clenched teeth.

Murlough covered my mouth with a dirty hand. "Don't scream, love," he voiced with mock gentleness, "your vile mentor may hear you and come running. Then I will be forced to kill the both of you."

I brought my foot up to kick him in his heinous face. When the heel of my boot connected with his nose with an unsettling crack, I clambered to my knees and crawled to the tent, despite the stinging in my flesh.

I grabbed the kunai knife and and returned to my place, only with less confidence this time. When I saw Murlough I realized that there was thick, crimson blood gushing out of his nose and dribbling down his chin.

"Did you eat lead paint chips or something?" I asked the fat man angrily. Murlough seemed to be very pissed off and not much in the mood for games. "Murlough, just back off. If you leave now, I swear on my life, I won't tell Crepsley you were here," I offered to make a deal with him in a gentle, genuine voice.

"But he _will_ know," he said quizzically before he refused my offer by making a deep gash in my shoulder with the rusty blade. I screamed out again, tears springing from my eyes, hoping that Mr. Crepsley would be able to hear my desperate pleas for help.

With that, Murlough, to the best of his ability, leaped at me and pointed the knife to my throat. In an desperate attempt not to die, I grabbed his wrists and twisted them around so his hands were down and I had domination over them. It took all of my strength to keep him from twisting his wrists back around and breaking mine, but this was a matter of life or death, and I wasn't exactly prepared for death yet. All I found myself thinking about was: "_What if Mr. Crepsley isn't always here to bail me out of a tough situation? Is that one of those situations?_"

Still gripping the Vampaneze's wrists as tightly as my muscles would allow, I kneed him in the chest to get him off of me. He gasped, but he didn't relax at all. After many other tries to shove him with my legs, to no avail, I realized he had the advantage in this situation. He weighed at least three hundred pounds. Compare that to me, a peanut, barely weighing a hundred pounds.

Words can not describe the anger and helplessness I felt when my arm muscles gave reluctant release and let go of Murlough's wrists, allowing him to put the knife back to my throat. Mumbling something foully under my breath, I kneed him in the ribs one more time, resulting in a loud, triumphant crack resounding through the air. It was a huge relief when he jumped off of me and held his broken ribs pathetically.

I gripped my kunai knife tightly in my hand, genuinely terrified. I clenched my eyes shut and swung blindly out of fear and felt a force stop the blade from slicing through the air.  
>I slowly opened my eyes and gaped at what it was that hampered the blade from moving. Unsuspectedly, I saw that the force that stopped the knife was Murlough's side in which the knife was buried deep inside of. I didn't think he would die from it, unfortunately, unless he couldn't get the proper care for it.<br>He hissed in pain then swung at my face angrily with his fist. It connected with the side of my head and everything became fuzzy as I fell back into my bottom. I saw Murlough hobble into the wooded area, cursing foully at the world, meaning to damn everyone in it.  
>That's the last thing I saw before all of my worries were momentarily erased and the lights went out, ushering me into the world of unconsciousness.<p>

"Felicity!" a startled voice shouted and woke me up. I had the strangest suspicion it would be Murlough again. Much to my delight, it was not, but it was Mr. Crepsley whom had finally returned from feeding. "Charna's Guts!" he cursed, rushing to my side.  
>I slowly opened my eyes and blinked. Few times, working out the blurriness from my vision. My head throbbed from when I had been hit and my eyesight was a little worse for ware, seeing things blurred every now and again, but I could tell that either Crepsley takes forever to feed and twenty four hours had just passed, or I wasn't out for very long. If I was thinking straight, I would have only considered the most obvious explanation. I thought I may have been concussed.<br>"Mr. Crepsley," I mumbled, then sighed, relieved. "I'm so glad your here." I closed my eyes again and pulled my arms close into my chest, finding an impossibly comfortable position on the ground.  
>"I heard a scream and believe it or not, I came as soon as I could. I wish I could have been here sooner, my Gods, you are covered in blood!" he gasped, running his sentences together in panicked jabber at the sight of my blood drenched tee shirt.<br>"Most of it isn't mine," I said arrogantly. I saw Mr. Crepsley muster an uncharacteristic, proud smile. With that thought, I wondered why Murlough cut up my back so much. It is considered shameful for a vampire or vampire to attack another person from behind. It may have been because he knew that I would not die. Maybe it was because he was afraid. Or because he is just plain crazy.

"Where are you hurt?" my mentor asked me, attempting to calm his stirred nerves.

"Mur–" I purposely coughed, catching myself from saying my attacker's name, in fear that Larten would have a spas attack and set out frantically to find his old nemesis. "He hit me in the head, took a knife to my shoulder, and cut up my back real bad." I grimaced. The headache could kill an elephant; the cuts on my lips hurt like H-E-double-hockey-sticks! My shoulder was only merely irritated and sore, not too badly cut, but my back was in horrible condition. Oh, how it hurt!

"Do you want me to help you heal them?" Mr. Crepsley asked benevolently, although his politeness was in vain.

"No, Mr. Crepsley," I snapped sarcastically, "I enjoy the agony that comes with the cuts I have received today, making my back look like raw hamburger. It is most delightful."

His face showed hurt, but that faded away after his short attention span began to make itself known and he gave a somber expression. "Take... well... Okay, this may become slightly awkward for you," he warned, "uh... but... please remove your shirt." By the many shades of red his face showed, his uncomfortableness with the situation was clear to see. I felt worse for him than I did for myself.

"Uh, okay," I coughed uncomfortably. I may have had a huge crush on the man, but the last thing I wanted to do was get naked in front of him. Despite the fact, I reluctantly obeyed and peeled off my tee-shirt, sticky with congealing blood, which was then tossed carelessly off to the side. I took a deep breath and shrugged my shoulders. "What now?" I asked awkwardly, beginning to blush. *Mental facepalm*. As if I didn't already know the frigging answer to this question!

He took a breath to speak, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "Hold that thought," I commanded. "I think we should go into the tent first," I suggested. "If someone walks by and sees me half naked here, they might get the wrong idea and have us arrested for indecent exposure."

He held back a small laugh then offered to assist me to the tent, extending his hand graciously to me, which I refused. I was badly cut, bruised and sore, yes, but I wasn't crippled. Once in the tent, I plunked down on the sleeping bag with a tired sigh.

"I will heal your shoulder for you first," he said.

"No," I refused. "I can do that. I'm not crippled, gimp or retarded. It's just a minor flesh wound and it'll heal quick. Fix my back, already. I'm bleedin' out, over here." He smiled to himself slightly, probably thinking about how overprotective and paranoid he must have sounded. He sat patiently as I rubbed my own spit onto my shoulder. It stung at first, but healed on contact, which I thought was flipping awesome epic-sauce.

Being a full vampire was cool, but at the same time not so awesome. It had it's pros and cons. Pros: super epic healing spit; lightning fast running speed everyone knows as flitting; super strength; awesome eyesight; amazing hearing; a boss sense of smell. Cons: Most animals hate us; sunlight will kill us within a few hours of continuous exposure to our skin; cannot be photographed; don't age very fast, thus giving us a very long, hard lifetime to bear through.

Without needing his command, I lay on my stomach and allowed him to apply the spit to my back to heal the cut. Another awkward vampire procedure, taken care of. I seriously hope never to have to do that again. Now I have a few more cool scars, and a boss story to tell.

Unlike my shoulder, the laceration on my back mended a bit slower, by virtue of comparison between the depth of cuts. I could now go about my business without any other major ails, bar the soreness in my muscles and the throbbing pain in the side of my head.

"There is a familiar scent on you," he said worriedly as I grabbed an extra blanket from to tent floor to cover myself up with, "I am just realizing it. Surely you have not heard of a Vampaneze named Murlough, have you?" My unforced shamed expression threw me under the bus. "You knew it was him, did you not!"

I nodded sadly, not capable of managing eye-contact with his glaring, emerald orbs.

"Why did you not tell me sooner!" he yawped angrily, although his eyes showed otherwise. Their usual kindness was only vaguely masked by an annoyed tone. This was usually how it started. The kind eyes but angered or annoyed tone first; the next step, hurt feelings, as if I hadn't already gotten enough of those.

"I-I dunno," I mumbled sheepishly in reply. "I didn't know how you would react, and I didn't want you to go crazy looking for him."

"Well, that sucks, because now I _do _need to go crazy looking for him. Do you even realize what you have–"

"Just shut up for a minute," I ordered sternly, then remembered book three of Cirque du Freak, Tunnels of Blood, the final confrontation with Murlough, and sadly, what came before that, the kidnapping of Evra. "It is okay to let him go this time. You'll rid of him soon enough. They aren't very good circumstances, but you'll get him." He looked a bit more reassured now surprisingly, and the bloodthirsty look in his face died down.

"The fight: how did you do?" he asked me casually.

I scoffed. "How do you think I did!"

"I understand it was a stupid question, but you are not dead now, so you must have done something right, I presume," he said, an eyebrow arched, his expression unusually hard to read. " I fear that if I had not blooded you earlier, you would..." he paused suspensefully, "not have made it," he finished euphemistically.

I stopped and thought for a moment, my mood becoming progressively more maudlin. If my blood had not been turned, to put it bluntly, I would have been dead or kidnapped and held hostage by now. It was a bit shocking in retrospect, now that I finally had the time to stop and consider it, and it wasn't until now that I felt a swarm of fresh tears approach, threatening for release from my hampering eyelashes.

A warm, salty tear found its way free and began trailing down the bridge of my nose, falling to the tent floor with a soft, depressing _tap _sound, followed by soft whimpers. Another tear followed the others' trail, which Mr. Crepsley kindly daubed away with a long, slender finger. He handed me a towel from the bag and suggested I wash up in the stream by the campsite before we settle in for sleep, since the rising sun was already on our trail. From this moment I realized, that like many other great people in history, my fate was being controlled by Destiny, and there was not much I could do to alter the course of the prophecy in which I would soon be forced to follow.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Hey all! I'm back again! Still distracted by everyday things like school, but I finally posted this filler chappy. Hopefully you like it. I know I haven't written a song-chapter in a while, if I can even call it that, but chapter 18 - which I am almost done writing, woot woot! - will have a song. The song is The Greatest Show Unearthed by Creature Feature if you want to get a head start and listen to it before I post the chapter. Enjoy!

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Felicity's POV

With my great new strength I received after I was blooded, I began to feel invincible, like I could do anything I put my mind to and more. It was time to put that thought to the test. I felt strong. Powerful! And the slightest bit cocky.

In the past, the odds of me winning against a strong, powerful vampire like Mr. Crepsley were slim to none, but now, I had confidence that I could win, or at least come close. I had a week to familiarize myself with my abilities and my new and improved, heightened senses. A whole seven days to build up my strength and muscles. If I could win against Murlough right after being blooded, imagine what I could do to a vampire after a week of learning the ropes.

~•••~

"You know the way it goes," Larten said to me, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. "If I bleed you thrice, I win the match." An arrogant smirk came to his lips. "Are you sure you want to do this after your run-in with Murlough?"

"Of course I do. And why do you seem so confident that your going to win this time?" I asked him, preparing for the fight.

"Do I not always?" His devious grin grew broader as he twirled the dagger around in his hand a few times. Just then I remembered how skilled with knives he was. He wasn't gonna be going easy on me from now on, I was sure. Now would have been the time to be worried for my well-being. Seriously worried. He wouldn't kill me, right?

"Let's go, old man! Let's get this thing started!" I yelled jovially with a smile of scheming delight on my face. "You gonna do something, or we gonna sit here all day?" A rare, but much loved expression came to his face. Bloodthirsty, malicious, yet freaking sexy at the same time. I loved doing this to him just to see that face. Call me crazy if you want, but if you were in my situation, you'd do the same thing.

When he ran at me, he did this sort of ninja-type thing – I'm not even sure what the hell I should call it – but it was pretty awesome and required a lot of stealth. But being the awesome person I am, I ducked out of the way and dodged the swipe, which, by my calculations and good judgment, would have hurt really bad. It came only inches away from my shoulder but instead I turned it around and nicked his side with my kunai knife.

"One to me!" I cheered happily and jumped in the air. The next thing I knew, he was behind me. Before I could move to defend myself, he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me closer to him.

"Do not get too cocky yet," he breathed huskily in my ear – or at least that's what I interpreted it as – sending a shiver down my spine. He pressed his knife to my neck. I would have been scared but I knew he was only teasing. Either that or I had way too much faith in him. The shiver was gone and replaced with a stinging when he spun me around and gave me a small stab right at the nape of my neck. "One to me."

I hissed, "Sadistic little turd..." Not my best insult. I could have swore at him, but I was stopped when a long, slender finger was placed to my lips.

"Shh... It is not _that_ deep, love."

"Get away from me," I ordered and spun around then made a long cut down his right arm. I did another ninja move that by virtue of the speed this was taking, I didn't even realize what even happened and cut him down his torso, cutting through the thin shirt he was wearing.

"That's three!" I cheered happily, "I won you lost! Ha ha ha ha ha! In yo face!" I stuck out my tongue and poked his forehead immaturely.

"Nice, good job, congratulations, now go sew my shirt," Crepsley said, sounding annoyed and incapable of tolerating anything I said. After he unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders, he balled it up and he threw it at me carelessly. I expertly caught it and watched him in exasperated amazement as he healed his wounds without even mumbling a sincere, "Good job," or "Sorry for being a complete jerkface earlier."

"It was your fault for wearing a nice shirt today," I mumbled sourly, a bit hurt at how sore of a loser he was being. I picked up the disheveled, white shirt from the ground where he carelessly threw it and smoothed it out with my hands. I held it in front of me to examine the damage I had caused it, became disinterested and turned on my heels and walked off toward the tent.

"Felicity," Mr. Crepsley called. I was half expecting some sort of rude response or gesture, but instead, accompanied with a smile, there was a sincere, "Good work today." A fluttering happiness lifted my heart for a mere second, reassuring me that he realized how annoying his arrogance was. I smiled, but hid it from him as I continued back to the tent, leaving him alone by the fire. I entered the tent, where I sat down on my sleeping bag and took a small, cheap sewing kit out of my bag.

I only had a small amount of white thread left, and one broken needle in which I sharpened to a point so I could still use it, no matter how ghetto it was. Sewing his shirt took the life out of the needle and used up the rest of the thread, even though I could only sew the hole on the sleeve. I sharpened the needle again, trying to see how long it could last. I managed to sew the other holes with a light green, the only other thread I had left. Surveying the work I had done on the shirt, I realized just how horrendous it looked. It was splattered with blood, the horrible job I did at sewing to match, this shirt was ruined.

"Mr. Crepsley," I said, looking down at the shirt, contemplating what I could do with it. I looked up to find him shirtless healing the cut on his chest. *Squeee!* "Y-your shirt is ruined," I said as I composed myself and handed it to him. "I don't think I can get the blood stains out and I ran out of white thread, so now your shirt looks horrible because I suck at life." He looked hopeful though. "And no, you can't keep it. I will _not_ let you wear this in public."

"Why not?" he whined uncharacteristically.

"It looks heinous, and I said so!" I nearly screeched.

"It is my only other shirt," he sighed. "All I have is my red one."

"Start wearing tee shirts," I said and threw the ugly shirt off to the side of the woods, discarding it like the trash it was. I went back to the tent and looked in his bag. For some reason, I was afraid of what I might find in there. Luckily, no unsettling objects presented themselves to me, and I pulled out a random gray tee-shirt. I threw it to him and ordered for him to put it on, despite the fact I really didn't _want_ him too, if you know what I mean...

"Nice," I smiled when he pulled his arms through the holes and smoothed out the wrinkles. It wasn't until then that I realized what was on the shirt. It was a picture of an angry squirrel yelling at a squirrelly friend, "Get off my nuts!" in capital letters. This is why we learn to read.

I laughed to myself when I saw the shirt the comical angry squirrel and witty phrase, classic. Mr. Crepsley didn't know what I was so amused at, but he was used to me laughing at random things I come up with in my head, so he ignored it, not wanting to get into it. I couldn't blame him.

"Next time we're in a place actually inhabited by people and not a bunch of insects and two vampires, we can buy you more clothes. So stop whining." Now that I thought about the emptiness this place had, I realized exactly how seriously boring it was. "When are we leaving here, anyway?"

"We could leave any time you would like," he said. "The Cirque is nearby. We could certainly go there if you would like."

Happiness! "Uuh, YEAH!" I squealed with delight and jumped up and down a few times. He smiled. "When can we leave? Tomorrow, today, now? Now sounds good!"

"Alright," he agreed. "We leave now. Pack up everything. Get your stuff, the tent–"

"Hold it right there. _You_ get the tent. That's _your_ department. Those things confuse me," I refused sternly.

"How about we just leave the tent here," Crepsley suggested, smiling. It wasn't like him to be so lazy.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," I agreed happily and began to load up our stuff, which took a small total of ten minutes to do. Easy peasy. With my bags and guitar in tow, we abandoned the tent, ready to start another chapter in my horrible life.

**A/N**: Sorry for mistakes - grammatical or otherwise - in the fic. Domo arigatougozaimasu.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:**_No longer will I apologize for updating late. Expect my absence. For all of those reading right now, congrats! You haven't given up on me! Or you're just really bored! Whatever the case may be, I hope you enjoy :D_

**Chapter Eighteen:  
><strong>Felicity's POV**  
><strong>

"The Cirque is closer than I thought," Mr. Crepsley said with his usual, calm overtone. We had been trekking, just the two of us, for the whole night so far, and the sun was rousing over the horizon line slightly, giving the twilight a dull shimmer.**  
>"<strong>Do you think we can make it before morning?" I asked optimistically, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. I could barely wait any longer. My patience was wearing thin and I didn't know how long I could wait until I went out of my mind.**  
>"<strong>I do not think so," he said, crushing my dreams of ever getting to the Cirque before insanity kicked in. Oh, well. Too bad for me. "We still have a few miles left to go. We may be able to make it tonight if we flit the rest of way."**  
>"<strong>I don't know if we should flit," I said timidly.**  
>"<strong>Why not?" he asked touchily.**  
>"<strong>I'm afraid I'll fall on my face and like, I dunno, _die _or something. I can barely _walk _without tripping and falling on my face." Just then a rock jumped out at me, right at my size seven feet. I stopped my fall with my hands and like a very, very clumsy ninja, scrambled back upright. "Swag," I said, barely noticeable banter laced in my voice.**  
>"<strong>Do not be so stupid," he said to me with a small laugh, "A vampire has the stealth of a ninja, and I believe that a clumsy vampire – even one as accident-prone as you – can manage flitting with out 'dying', as you so harshly put it."**  
>"<strong>Alright, if you say so," I said irritably, reluctantly accepting and giving into the fact that the vampire just may have made a valid point. "I'll flit. But if I trip and fall, you catch me. Got it? If not, I beat you once, I can do it again. Twice as hard."**  
>"<strong>Are you threatening me?" he asked, a pseudo look of shock on his handsome, scarred face.**  
>"<strong>Yes. Yes I am."**  
>"<strong>Deal," he promised calmly.**  
><strong>Adjusting the stubborn bag on my shoulder once again, the two of us began running, quickly taking off to a steady pace, slowly accelerating to meet the speed of flitting. It felt like I wasn't moving my legs, like I was flying on auto-pilot. The only way to describe the scene: objects that were impossible to make out given the speed I was traveling were blurs of color. And it was awesome epicness. I found myself speeding ahead of Crepsley a few times.**  
><strong>Halfway there, I noticed another presence. I looked to my right and saw Mr. Crepsley flitting alongside me, face a bit flushed, looking tired and ready for a break but otherwise determined to get to the Cirque and focused on the road ahead. To my left: a goofy, smiling man with shaggy, green hair, honey brown eyes and a muscular build was flitting.**  
>"<strong>Vancha!" I yelled happily and stopped suddenly, not bothering to gradually slow down. That mistake lead to an unintentional somersault and landing on my butt in the dirt and decaying leaves that littered the woods. The two men managed to slow to a halt when I scrambled to my feet and ran over to the purple garbed man.**  
><strong>The wild Prince grinned widely and squeezed me in a tight embrace, lifting me off the ground and crushing my shoulders in his strong arms. "You've grown, lass! The last time I saw you, your were this big!" He made an exaggeration of how short I was by measuring about a half an inch with his index finger and thumb. "Look at you... You're a young woman now."**  
><strong>I smiled sheepishly.**  
>"<strong>It is a pleasure to see you as always, Sire," Mr. Crepsley got between the Prince and I, a slight edge in his voice.**  
>"<strong>Aye, I know it is," the Prince said arrogantly. "Mind me askin' where you're headed to?"**  
>"<strong>The Cirque Du Freak," I said. "We are almost there. About a fourth of a mile. You can join us if you want."**  
>"<strong>I'd love to join ya," he smiled. As we resumed walking (because I was too lazy to flit again), I gave Vancha a quick rundown of everything that had happened to me in the passed six or so years I had been away from him.**  
><strong>Arriving at the Cirque, we realized it was an old, abandoned theater in a small town with kind people and nice houses. Sketchy... The theater was very run-down and eerily quiet when we entered. Once we came to the room Mr. Creplsey said everyone would be in – the basement – we began to hear the noise of hyper, excited performers practicing their acts and stunts for the show suddenly, as if by some magic spell.**  
><strong>All at once, every performer stopped their practice and looked over to the worn out, sable valance – the makeshift door – we came through. "Larten!" they all cheered, nearly in unison. A swarm of performers – most of them female – bombarded the vampire, barely letting him get through the doorway. I recognized a few of them, like Gertha Teeth and Sive and Seera. I didn't see Truska there. She must have had her attention elsewhere.**  
><strong>Just then, I heard Truska squeal with delight and yell happily, "Vancha!" with her strange accent, wrapped her arms around the man and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Vancha smiled and hugged her back, after that, planting a kiss on her lips.**  
>"<strong>Will you be staying here, Larten?" one of the hopeful performing girls asked, her enthusiastic smile bright. The other girls smiled hopefully. Well, that was sort of awkward...**  
>"<strong>Yes," Larten said, and everyone's faces lit up, and most of the girls squealed happily, "if Hibernius does not disagree." I could tell Mr. Crepsley was honored to be welcomed like this and was happy to be back.**  
><strong>Truska yelled something sternly to our green-haired Prince in a strange language I couldn't even begin to comprehend. Vancha looked shocked, then sad. In the same strange language he replied to her sadly and began to walk toward the door.**  
>"<strong>Vancha!" I called before he made it to the door. "What did she say?"**  
>"<strong>She told me I needed to take a bath or else... Uh, you probably would regret hearing it if I told you," he said with a small smirk as he left. I returned to Larten, thinking about the numerous things she could have said to him.**  
>"<strong>Who's this?" a snobby-sounding girl asked Larten, staring me up-and-down. I feared she would notice my worn out clothes and greasy, purple hair. I had a feeling she did and took me for a slob. I immediately became self-conscious. "Is she your girlfriend? She's pretty!" Oh, thank the gods.**  
>"<strong>N-no," Larten laughed shyly and blushed brightly. "She is not my girlfriend."**  
><strong>I blushed too. "My name is Felicity Taylor. Treat me well." I nodded to the girl. She smiled.**  
>"<strong>She is my assistant," Larten noted, still blushing. He's so adorable sometimes.**  
>"<strong>Larten," a deep, scary (seemingly pedo) voice said eerily. I looked up and back at Larten, then did a double-take. I found myself looking at the waistline of a rather tall gentleman. I looked up. Higher. And higher. Finally, my eyes met his cold, coal colored ones. _Ah_, I thought. _This must be Mr.__Tall_.**  
>"<strong>Hey, Mr. Tall!" I said happily to him before Larten could respond. The ginger glared at me as if to tell me to shut up and that I was being rude. I ignored it. Tall nodded his greetings to me.**  
>"<strong>It is good to see you, Hibernius," Mr. Crepsley said, smiling. He seemed so happy here. It was probably because it was the closest thing he had to a home. I had only been here a few minutes and I could tell staying here was like being part of a big family, something I hadn't been part of in nearly seven years. I would like our – unfortunately short – stay here.**  
>"<strong>I take it Felicity, Sire March and yourself would like to stay with the Cirque for a while," he stated. "That is wonderful. I presume Vancha would like to stay with Truska," – she nodded approvingly – "and Larten, I have a coffin in a room for you. If you do not mind, Felicity will be staying with you until we can find her a more permanent quarters."**  
>"<strong>Your generosity is greatly appreciated, but finding a separate room for her will not be necessary. We will not be with the show long," Larten gently refused. I didn't want my own room anyway. I feel safe with Larten.**  
>"<strong>Excellent," he said, then whistled loudly to get the performers' eyes on him. "With Larten here tonight, we can continue on with the show tomorrow night with every one of the performers we have. As the motto goes, although cliché, the show goes on!" Cheers erupted from the crowd of contortionists, magicians, wolf-men and the like, echoing throughout the spacious basement.**  
><strong>Tall ushered Crepsley and me to our room. Like all the other rooms, there were thick, black curtains that seemed to have been cloaked by a sound barrier of some sort, magical or otherwise, used for a door. We got no special treatment when it came to a door, despite how awesome we were.**  
><strong>The room was cozy and small, with two large coffins in two of four corners of the room. One of them was black on the outside, with red, velvety padding inside of it. It had a fluffy white pillow and down comforter inside it.**  
><strong>In the corner at the very opposite side of the room was a bit smaller made out of unpainted wood. Inside was similar to the black one, white pillows and blankets and soft padding lined the inside. There was a table and a few chairs in the other corners.**  
>"<strong>It is good to be home," Mr. Crepsley sighed as he climbed into the casket and sat contently. "I missed this coffin." He patted the sides of it as if it was an expensive sports car, admiring its "beauty". Luckily for him, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so he can think that piece of junk is as gorgeous as he wants to think it is.**  
>"<strong>I've never slept in a coffin," I stated obviously. Of course he knew that. Why would I have slept in a coffin as a human?**  
>"<strong>I am not quite sure you will enjoy it as much as I do," Larten stated honestly. "Some of the younger generations do not appreciate spending their days confined in such small, closed spaces.**  
>"<strong>I'm open-minded and used to change. I think I can learn to live with it fairly quickly." I smiled and crawled into the tan coffin diagonally across the room from him in his black coffin. "Hmm, quite comfy."**  
>"<strong>We have a big night planned for tomorrow, so no messing around. Go to sleep so we can wake up early tomorrow," he said after he got undressed and pulled the blanket snug over his shoulders.**  
>"<strong>You can't tell me what to do," I mumbled sleepily into my pillow, feeling as if I had melted into the coffin. My limbs fell limp and my shoulders relaxed. I'm sure soft snoring was heard shortly after because I drifted off to sleep before he could get a word in edgewise.

~•••~

I woke up in the middle of the day to an itch on my arm. Upset that I had been woken up out of my nice sleep, I reluctantly itched my arm. Just then I felt something strange... and furry. Panicked, I opened my eyes. A large menacing spider could be seen perched calmly on my forearm, looking at me creepily with its many beady eyes.**  
><strong>I take back what I said about feeling safe with Larten. I felt like I was going to be eaten alive.**  
>"<strong>_Mr. Crepsley_!" I screeched at the top of my lungs for my mentor. As carefully as one could while panicking with a deadly tarantula about to sink its fangs into their flesh, I tried to move the spider away to no avail. I scrambled in a useless act of desperation and stupidity to the back of my coffin to get away from said terrifying spider.**  
><strong>I looked over to the other vampire who sat up, eyes wide, hair adorably messy, wondering why I was screaming bloody murder. I was guessing he wasn't in the right state of mind to be dealing with my negligent babbling about a giant spider that could easily tear into my jugular at any moment, so I tried to speak as clearly as possible for the benefit of my grouchy mentor.**  
><strong>But of course, the words didn't come out as such. "Crepsley! Spider! It's... Get it... **AAH!" **He rushed over to me quickly only to find his precious spider on my arm and me shivering in fear. If I could see myself I probably would have laughed. I imagine I looked pathetic, like a mouse in the face of a cat.**  
><strong>Mr. Crepsley sighed. "Felicity, it is just my spider, Madame Octa. Surely you have read about her?" He reached down and picked up the tarantula and cradled her in his hands.**  
>"<strong>Yeah, I did, but I-I... I was... You know what, I was asleep. If you woke up to find something completely terrifying in front of you – like maybe your reflection – you would probably have the same reaction," I retorted, finding my words near the end.**  
>"<strong>You should have been a blonde," he snarled at me with an annoyed tone while he put Octa back into her cage. He climbed back into the coffin and pulled the covers over his head.**  
><strong>Offended, I screamed, "At least I'm not a ginger! Gingers have no souls." I caught his angry glare at me and began to regret each of the ten words I had just uttered. "If this spider thing happens again, don't be surprised if you wake up with me cowering in your coffin next to you."**  
>"<strong>Go to sleep before I hold your pillow over your face until you stop kicking," Mr. Crepsley warned. I was slightly shocked. Not wanting him to put the threat to action, I shut my eyes. Normally, I wouldn't have stood for anything like that. But he could be very scary when he wanted to be. Reluctantly I began to count sheep.

~•••~

**"**I heard you and Larten fighting this morning," Vancha mentioned with a subtle tone. "Are you alright?"**  
><strong>**"**Yeah," I answered vaguely, although it was sort of a lie. He may have been okay, but I wasn't. I felt hurt. I took a piece of toast from a tray that Truska left for us Freaks for breakfast. "We fight like this quite often. No matter how many times he threatens me, I know he doesn't mean it. He couldn't bear to part with this. I couldn't either if I were him," I laughed.**  
><strong>**"**Wait, he threatened you?" Vancha asked angrily. "If you ever think he'll do anything, just let me know, kay? I'll knock some sense into 'im."**  
><strong>**"**Thank you, Sire March, but I believe I can handle him,"I said politely. **  
><strong>**"**If you ever need backup..."**  
><strong>I laughed and bit into my toast.**  
><strong>After about a half a minute, the longest Vancha could keep him motor-mouth shut at one time, he asked, "Where is Crepsley, anyway?"**  
><strong>**"**Sleeping," I said. "He told me to let him sleep late. He got all pissed at me because his spider crawled all over me and it scared me and I accidentally woke him up with my screaming. He's been up since then and I doubt he's going to want to wake up at all."**  
><strong>**"**We all know that whenever he does wake up he's gonna take it out on one of us, and I don't intend on being the one to be snapped at all night," he glared at me. "Speak of the devil..." he said when a groggy vampire stumbled out of the dark room.**  
><strong>**"**Good morning, sunshine," Vancha smiled at the ginger, just to be greeted by a very obscene hand gesture known as 'the bird'. The offended yet simultaneously jovial Prince laughed at the red-garbed ex-general, a smile of pure amusement on his face. "Don't take your anger out on me. I'm a Prince. I could have you beheaded in a wink, aye?"**  
><strong>Mr. Crepsley didn't say anything but remained silently, scowling. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and sat on the floor.**  
><strong>**"**Want any breakfast?" I asked him.**  
><strong>**"**No," he grunted, sounding grumpier than usual. I wasn't expecting him to still be this upset. I didn't see what the big problem was. Maybe I had really bothered him. But this sort of thing happened all the time, so I didn't see what was any different.**  
><strong>Vancha leaned back in his spot on the floor and closed his eyes for a power-nap. He was the only man I knew that could take a nap after just waking up from eight hours of sleep. He never ceased to amaze me.**  
><strong>I rolled my eyes in an annoyed manner when Mr. Crepsley refused to say anything else. "Crepsley, why are you so grumpy today?" I asked. Without warning, he got up and walk away, back to the room. Even though his mood was sour, I still didn't want him to leave me alone. I feared if we didn't make up now, he'd never want to talk to me again.

The night's preparations were nearly complete. The show would go on tonight and since we had all the performers we possibly could, the show would be on of the best it had ever been.**  
><strong>**"**Will I be in the show tonight?" I asked Crepsley for about the billionth time. Luckily, we had made up earlier in the day. As I had suspected, he apologized to me for being so undesirably cranky and... what's the term... emo vampire?**  
><strong>**"**I have told you this! You do not have a part in the show yet. You do not even know how the show works," he told me.**  
><strong>**"**I do too know how the show works! I have read about it!" I argued.**  
><strong>He sighed, "Even so, you do not have a part yet, and Mr. Tall has more pressing matters on his hands."**  
><strong>**"**The night is young, Crepsley, my dear," I said in a quizzical tone, "I'll find a way to be part of the show. You'll see!" Mr. Crepsley looked at me and shook his head in amusement as I left for Mr. Tall's van. When I arrived, I suggested many things to the tall man. He told me all of them were considered. From various songs, dance routines, to various acts I could preform. I was excited to see all my ideas!**  
><strong>The preformers got ready in their tents and caravans, putting on costumes and makeup that Truska prepared for them. Walking into me and Creplsey's shared room carelessly, I didn't bother to knock. Living with Crepsley, I could never know what to expect. I didn't expect what I saw next for sure!**  
><strong>I laughed loudly. "Is that... Eye-liner?" My sides began to feel sore.**  
><strong>He nearly jumped out of his skin. Strange, considering he heard me coming. Maybe shame was a key factor? But why would he be ashamed when I would see him like this during the show?**  
><strong>**"**I-it is part of my costume," he said defensively.**  
><strong>**"**Why?" I tried to stop laughing; I suspected he wasn't feeling too great about my laughter directed towards him. I tried to fix my error. "It looks great and all, but I never thought I would see the day you would do something so uncharacteristic of yourself."**  
><strong>I wrote in my journal while he was getting his outfit on, and of course I would sneak a peek at him every so often, but he didn't need to know! When he was finished, he came to me for approval. "How do I look?" he asked, did a little twirl, causing his suit tail to flutter a bit. He stopped in front of me.**  
><strong>**"**Marvelous," I said in a pseudo British accent to mock his. My favorite part was his spider tie.**  
><strong>**"**I do not even sound like that!" he said with a serious expression. I just laughed.**  
><strong>Later, during the show, not a lot of my ideas were used, due to their short notice... But there was one part that got thrown in there, the only idea of mine used, that I was particularly pleased with. A song I chose, Greatest Show Unearthed by Creature Feature began to play at the beginning of the show, before any of the performances.

Ladies and gentlemen,**  
><strong>Boys and ghouls,**  
><strong>Step right up!**  
><strong>Behind this curtain lies a ghastly concoction**  
><strong>Of delight, horror, fantasy and terror!**  
><strong>Your every wish is our command,**  
><strong>Your every whimsical desire brought to life.**  
><strong>But I'm warning you, there's always a price -

Welcome to the greatest show unearthed!

The dark carnival is in town,

You'd better be ready:**  
><strong>Just follow the parade**  
><strong>Of dancing skeletons;**  
><strong>Full of ghoulish delights**  
><strong>Around every corner -**  
><strong>Don't tell your parents you're here,**  
><strong>They will soon be mourners

Welcome to the lower birth,**  
><strong>The greatest show unearthed:**  
><strong>We appear without a sound,**  
><strong>The darkest show around,**  
><strong>We will leave you in a daze -**  
><strong>Madness, murder, dismay!**  
><strong>We will disappear at night,**  
><strong>With blood on the concrete

I will be your ticket taker -**  
><strong>Come inside, it's a dream!**  
><strong>Enter the fun house of mirrors,**  
><strong>No one can hear you scream.**  
><strong>We can supply anything**  
><strong>That your heart desires,**  
><strong>But the consequences**  
><strong>Will surely be dire.

Welcome to the lower birth,**  
><strong>The greatest show unearthed:**  
><strong>We appear without a sound,**  
><strong>The darkest show around,**  
><strong>We will leave you in a daze -**  
><strong>Madness, murder, dismay!**  
><strong>We will disappear at night,**  
><strong>With blood on the concrete

Come inside**  
><strong>For the ride,**  
><strong>Your deepest darkest fears

The best night**  
><strong>Of your life,**  
><strong>You're never leaving here

The unknown,**  
><strong>The unseen,**  
><strong>Is what you're gonna find

Witness this,**  
><strong>Witness that,**  
><strong>Until you lose your mind!

Welcome to the lower birth,**  
><strong>The greatest show unearthed:**  
><strong>We appear without a sound,**  
><strong>The darkest show around,**  
><strong>We will leave you in a daze -**  
><strong>Madness, murder, dismay!**  
><strong>We will disappear at night,**  
><strong>With blood on the concrete

My heart swelled with joy. My first time watching the Cirque du Freak for real. This was exciting. It was even better to watch the show than to read about it, I will tell you that. First was the wolfman, a hairy man that looked to be about twenty with wiry fur all over his body and a face like that of a vile dog, constantly snarling. After that came Truska a beautiful lady who, at will, could grow a beard, and then Evra, the young snakeboy.**  
><strong>From my seat in the front row of the theater, I had a very nice view of the show. It wasn't the same as in the book. The acts were different. But I imagined they always varied. Despite their differences, they were still equally as frightening and spectacular. Mr. Crepsley's act scared me the most. I did not like that spider of his one bit. I hated that fact that I would learn to hate it even more.

A/N: Dun dun Duuuuuuuhh! Next chapter will come... Heh heh... You'll see it when you do. :) Also, in the comments, tell me, do any of you like Smosh? I dunno why I am wondering. I just am. BYE!


	19. HLFT update COMING SOON!

Hey, Cirque-du-Freaks.

I think it is safe to say that my motivation for most of my stories have been lacking. Blame the internet! Okay, blame me, too, I'm lazy. Honestly, I've started watching Tobuscus on YouTube (SPONSOR!) and he has a TON of videos on his channel that I wasted my whole summer watching, hence why I have accomplished NOTHING.

I haven't posted in God (and you, possibly) knows how long, and I sincerely apologize. I am going to start back up again, as it is one of my goals for the new school year. I hope I haven't disappointed you all too terribly much. So, this message will probably piss you off at first, because it's not actually a chapter, but you can expect to be reading a chapter soon! I promise! Please don't kill me!

Okay, well, I love you all, and I hope to hear from you guys in the comments :)

Vanchanauts Unite! :P


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